Jesavette
by Resh
Summary: When the survivors a brutal attack are transferred to another base, young Cloud is quickly noticed. meanwhile, Sephiroth's relationship with Zack is deteriorating--due to something Zack refuses to speak of. UPDATED 4/20 (finally)
1. The Boys

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

Disclaimer: I hold no claim over this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: taking a break from SW: JD - *ducks objects thrown at her* -to write this. I'm aware that the story line of Cloud in training has been done, overdone and burned to a flaking cinder, but here's my go at it. This little darling may get Yaoi explicit later.

Grammatical errors most likely buried within this work. Hopefully they will be worked out eventually.

Jesavette, part one

--------------------------------

The air was filled with oily smoke, choking those that still lived and fought. The attack had been swift and unexpected and the dead heavily outnumbered the living. Even fewer still were fit to battle. 

Cloud lifted his face from the dirt and glanced over his shoulder, watching his barracks burn to the ground. A low groan caught his attention and he ticked his glowing blue gaze to the man on the ground near him. A quick look told Cloud that his wounds were fatal. Cloud ignored him. A week ago he would have been horrified by his own actions. After three days of unrelenting onslaught from the enemy and watching most of his friends die from whatever place he was at the time, he merely dismissed the pang of conscience that arose. He would have been just as content retreating, but his training camp also served as an information-decoding center. Until they could confirm that all equipment had been destroyed and everything burned, they had to hold position.

Cloud rolled over, reloading his weapon close to his body. He also risked lifting his head to check the tracker strapped around his bicep. The blue dots representing the Shinra forces had diminished greatly. Cloud swore and rolled back over, settling himself back in the mud. Why the hell hadn't HQ sent back up, or some delayed trigger charges at least. They could really use some help if the higher ups expected them to hold the base for another twenty-three hours.

Cloud kept his body pressed flat to the ground and crawled, stopping frequently to assess his surroundings. The oil in the air had accumulated on his clothes and hair, camouflaging him to a certain extent. Thank you for small favors, at least. 

He stopped suddenly, falling motionless. Moving around in the swirling smoke a ahead as a group of humans. If their upright an obviously stable physical condition didn't tip him off, the uniforms did. 

"Oh, fuck," he breathed. Recon troops. No doubt equipped with gas masks and infrared goggles. He had an urge to just jump up, make it easier on them, but he wasn't suicidal. But he was crazy enough to do something other than lay there protectively. He strained to look through the swirling smoke and nearly jumped when they suddenly stepped clear of it. His hazed brain ran through options a little slower than he would have liked, but he was still thinking straight so he took his time. An idea presented itself- along with the chance to do it. The recon group, Cloud had confirmed it, was standing next to what used to the mess hall. Cloud didn't care about that; he cared about at the three tanks sitting outside marked flammable. The group was no more than ten feet from the trio of canisters. He had a chance to take them all out in one move. Slowly he moved his gun into position. Sprawled out in the mud, he took aim on the middle canister. The group hadn't moved. Morons. Even Cloud, a teenage trainee knew better.

"Dumbasses," he muttered to himself. He pulled the trigger. The group jumped and spun toward him, their weapons coming up-

- They were too late. Cloud's dead-on shot detonated the middle canister which sparked off the other two. The group disappeared in a flash of flame, screaming like infants.

"What in the hell was that?"

Cloud had forgotten he still had his headset on. A platoon leader, the only platoon leader left alive was shouting over the wide-band radio link.

"Recon," Cloud answered.

The headset crackled, cutting off part of the return. " …status?"

Cloud cocked an eyebrow. "Crispy."

"Strife, I'm debating whether to reprimand you or kiss you."

Cloud allowed a tiny smile. "Can we avoid both, sarge?"

"Whatever, kid." A burst of static made Cloud wince. All the goddam money in the free world and Shinra couldn't afford decent equipment?

"…over to the west wall."

"Yeah. On it." Cloud glanced around, then began the back aching scuttle to the west wall. 

When he finally reached his target he found the whole area torn up and dead bodies everywhere. He saw one of his few still-living friends propped up against a wall, his weapon held tightly in his hands. Blood soaked his uniform and dampened the ground. He looked at Cloud, his eyes wide and red-rimmed. " The hell are you doing here?"

"Sarge sent me." Cloud answered. " What's going on up here?"

"Bomb. Sarge promised a medic."

Cloud sighed. He ducked instinctively as a bomb detonated somewhere nearby. That was the other half of the message he didn't get. "Guess that's me." He began tugging on his friend's uniform, pushing ruined cloth out of the way and probing the wound. The flesh beneath his hand jumped in pain. Cloud closed his eyes briefly then resumed his inspection. There wasn't much he can do. His friend knew it. Cloud squeezed his shoulder and the other boy nodded. Cloud crawled over to the next man still alive. A minor shoulder scrape. At last, something he could help with. He deftly cleaned it as well as he could and wrapped it. 

The next man he stumbled across was laying face down. When Cloud flipped him over the first thing he was the handlebar mustache and the brass shining cheerily at him form the man's breast pocket. Aww, great. The Colonel. And he was alive. 

(_This is a wonderful day. All the men dead here and this one had to survive. Am I being punished?)_

"Help me," the Colonel rasped. His face was white and pinched with pain. "Need ko-reps." It was the slang term most often used for the mako-based painkiller distributed within the Shinra ranks. Cloud frowned. He had very little of it left. Giving it to another man under the right conditions could mean, at least temporarily, another set of hands. Cloud debated, then quickly dressed the Colonels wounds, ignoring him as he pleas turned to threats. Dismissing brass was dangerous, but his orders were to hold position and he was within his rights to make any decisions necessary to carry out those orders.

Th next man was in fairly good condition, just tired. His unruly red hair was plastered to his head and he was smeared with grease. When Cloud queried him, he had no injuries to report but he loosed a colorful string of profanities that Cloud had mentally echoed a hundred times over the past three days.

"How much more of this do we have to take?" the redhead asked.

Cloud shook his head. "Another twenty hours, minimum."

The read-head swore again, then introduced himself. "Reno."

"Cloud."

"You stationed here?"

"Training. Troopers, alpha platoon, though that's been blown to hell. Specialty in tactics and field medicine."

Reno whistled. "You're only a trainee?"

When Cloud nodded he arched his back to look over the barricade he was situated behind, then dropped back to his haunches. "Holy fuck, kid. If they don't send you straight to SOLDIER, I'm personally going to launch a campaign."

Cloud tilted his head curiously.

Reno raised an eyebrow. "I saw what you did two days ago, in the trenches."

Cloud looked into the distance, this time not reacting when something rocked the base's foundation. He looked back to Reno. "You're not stationed here."

"Turks. Got tapped to be the gopher boy to jog out here and give your commanding officer a message. I was just getting ready to leave when this got thrown in your faces. Over all, I can't say I'm impressed with this batch of recruits, but the guys that are still alive have my respect for life."

A half grin split Cloud's dirty face. No one 'jogged' here. They were four hundred miles from the nearest Shinra installation.

The bit of lightness was welcomed, but Cloud had to keep moving. He raised his hand and mocked a sword salute." See you around." 

"Later kid. I'm serious about what I said. They better stick you in SOLDIER after this."

Cloud scowled, his unusual eyes flashing. "Right now I'll settle for being extracted."

*****

The next place sarge sent him was the communications office. The last guy sent had botched his orders up and the thing was still standing. 

Cloud found the last guy sent slumped over a large bag. There was a neat slice in the back of his skull that extended through to his forehead. Shrapnel grenade no doubt. Cloud pushed him off the bag, hoping to whatever higher power hadn't lost interest in the doings down here that the bag was stuffed full with explosives. What he found was a bag full of gear. It looked like every bit of personal crap the trooper had was shoved in the bag. Cloud could hardly lift it. No wonder the guy had been caught by a frag grenade if he was fumbling over this thing. The blond methodically emptied the contents until his half-conscious prayer was answered. At the very bottom was a pair of time delay detonators. Hell, forget training- with enough of these, the most infinite loser of the washouts could survive. One could decimate a seventy-meter area. Cloud didn't want to blow up two hundred some odd feet of base, however. He gingerly popped the case and removed half the detonate plaster, rolling into a ball and sticking it in his utility belt. He snapped the casing shut again. Ducking into the small building he set the detonator in the middle, right next to the classified file case. He set the timer to give himself a minute-ten to get out of range and then scrambled out as the countdown began. He stopped just long enough to pat down the dead guy outside and remove everything useful, then ran for cover. He slid behind a concrete wall and curled on himself. Five seconds later the detonator blew. The office jumped on its foundation as the middle exploded outward. Superheated debris rained down on Cloud. He curled up tighter. 

He had no idea how long he stayed behind the wall, but he knew it was well longer than he should have. His agonized body didn't want to move anymore, much less work and he really wanted to do nothing more than sleep. The demanding squawk of the sergeant on the headset finally prompted him to shift. 

"Strife! Strife! Dammit, kid, answer! Strife!"

"I'm here," Cloud answered wearily. He forced himself to his knees. "Com office destroyed."

"I saw. Good job. Fall back to the south point. Tell Mayern that we're going to be spending the night out here, no lights, ration out the food and set up for sub freezing temps."

Cloud suppressed a groan. He hated cold. It had been a source of many jokes, since he came from a mountain town, but the truth was the Cloud absolutely hated to be cold. No doubt that the sarge knew that but Cloud kept his comments to himself anyway. "Yes sir. Strife out."

*****

It was nearly thirty hours later when the first Shinra transport set down under the cover of protective counter fire. The injured were the first loaded, then the most of the trainees. Shinra put a lot of stock in its recruits, holding them at a high value. Cloud was kept back, assigned to track and tag the location of all remaining survivors for the extraction teams. Then he was stuck IN one of those extraction teams. He did his job willingly, but he collapsed on the floor of the last transport, nearly unconscious. He was dimly aware of hands pulling at him, but the lock in his mind that kept his body going by telling him that he still had a job to do had been snapped off and he passed out cold before the transport was under way. He had the time. It was at least a day's travel to the closest base.

*****

Technically, everyone should have been cited for incompetence. The base had pretty much been at a standstill the past six days and there was little the instructors and brass could do. After word of the assault on the base at Kelby had leaked down recruits could barely be forced through their drills with any semblance of attention. Images of death and fear for companions hung over the base like a lead blanket. The much-revered SOLDIERs were barely noticed as they moved through their daily routines quietly, cutting the blanket of preoccupation just long enough to be afforded the necessary respect before it sealed up again, drawing everyone's attention back to a battle no one could see.

Zack carried his gear over one arm, his ever-present buster sword strapped across his back. The tense frown on his face was not natural nor was it reassuring. The black haired SOLDIER stalked to the quarters he shared with Sephiroth and dumped his gear by the door, shedding the heavy shoulder armor. He yelled once up the stairwell to the second floor then strode to the small kitchen. 

Sephiroth entered the kitchen just as Zack swallowed a handful of pills and leaned on the counter, his head down. Seph moved behind him and gently worked his fingertips in small circles just under the younger SOLDIER's shoulder blades. Zack didn't move for long minutes.

He finally raised his head, his luminescent eyes glowing dimly. He exhaled deeply. Sephiroth trailed his hands down Zack's back to rest on his flanks. "Everything all right?"

The SOLDIER looked over his shoulder and the silver-haired general. "Fine." He moved away form Sephiroth's touch. 

Sephiroth curbed his rising irritation. Zack had been less than responsive for weeks, becoming evasive whenever Sephiroth pushed the issue of intimacy. "Is there a reason you called me, or did you just want to interrupt?" At this point he wouldn't put it past Zack. His lover's odd behavior was becoming more and more eccentric.

"There's a reason. The transports from Kelby arrived, they're offloading now."

Sephiroth's expressed settled into a frown as he followed Zack out of their housing to the main grounds of the base. He'd been the first to speak to his superiors after the unexpected assault on Kelby. His request to take a support team to reinforce the undefended base had been denied the first time and the three times after that. They cited 'reasons that cannot be discussed due to classified content.' Sephiroth knew it was a political defense screen to keep their enemies from believing they'd hit a sore spot. The general still had a hard time swallowing the fact that Shinra allowed the trainees at the base to be sacrificed over a matter of pride. Their enemies already knew that attacking the base would inflict some degree of damage- they wouldn't have assaulted the base otherwise. It grated him. It grated Zack worse. How many dead over some fucked up delusion of security?

Sephiroth stopped at the edge of the commotion. Transports were gathered in a half circle, expelling troops by the dozens. Frankly, Sephiroth was surprised so many were still alive. Others gathered around the survivors: med crews, officers, other recruits…

Sephiroth raised his head when a familiar face hopped from the transport. They'd gone through training together but while Sephiroth had advanced, he'd chosen to stay behind to help train the newcomers. He didn't notice Sephiroth; he seemed to be watching something else. The General angled his head to see what. 

A young boy, no older than sixteen, was furiously batting away medics trying to get at his injuries. At first all the general saw was a dirty boy. Then glimmers of an unnatural allure began to show though. The boy turned in his direction briefly to snap angrily at someone behind him and he saw the boy's eyes. They glowed deeply from within, an astounding shade of anomalous blue. Sephiroth glanced at Zack. The SOLDIER was staring back, one eyebrow hiked up. He tilted his head in the direction of the boy; Sephiroth shook his head. He'd never seen this one before.

Sephiroth waited patiently for his next chance to catch Sarge's attention and wave him over.

*****

"Strife. Over here."

Cloud altered his stride and angled toward the sergeant. He was standing next to someone that Cloud thought he should know. The supposedly mild sedative he'd been given after finally submitting to a thorough examination was fairly potent. Apparently that was Shinra's operating standard; throw troops in the fire, then drug them until they can't complain about the burns. The Sarge raked an expert eye over him apparently deciding against saying whatever was on his mind. "They get you cleared?"

"I've been poked, prodded, bandaged and inoculated against thirty different viruses, half of which I've never heard of."

Sarge nodded curtly. "Good enough."

The large man eyed Cloud critically. "Sergeant Kiler has been telling me your exemplary actions at the base."

"Thank you sir." Cloud said. 

"You look dead," Sephiroth said. " What did they promise you to keep you standing?"

"I was promised a hot shower, dinner and sleep."

Sephiroth's eyebrow jumped but his cool expression didn't falter. "They'd have to offer me a good deal more than that."

"Right now, that's all I want." Cloud's guileless expression led Sephiroth to believe it.

The general examined Cloud thoughtfully. They way Kiler was eyeing this boy suggested that there was more to this than plain concern for a man under his command. Sephiroth wondered if they were sleeping together. He could muse on it later; the boy looked ready to hit the dirt. "Go. Get your rest."

Cloud barely mustered a sloppy salute. "Sir."

The general watched him depart, stumbling tiredly and moving on through sheer willpower. "He looks ready to drop, Julis."

"He's alive. That's more than anyone can say for the rest of his squad."

Sephiroth's eyes sharpened. "His entire squad is dead?"

Sarge nodded. "Artillery shell took out the barracks. Killed his entire squad but he somehow got out without a serious injury."

Sephiroth nodded absently, then looked his old friend up and down. "Get some sleep. You look as dead as Strife."

The Sargent saluted tiredly.

*****

After the excitement over the survivors faded and watching the bloodied troops emerge from the transport became depressing, Sephiroth retired to the quarters he shared with Zack.

Sephiroth swirled the tumbler in his hand gently. 

"Will you drink that already?" 

Sephiroth paused and ticked his severe gaze to Zack. He was stretched out on their bed, belly down, watching Sephiroth. "Am I bothering you?"

"Yes," Zack said shortly. Sephiroth resumed his methodical swirling. Zack rolled out of bed and pulled the tumbler from his lover's hand and quickly tossed back the liquor. He set the crystal glass down and locked eyes with Sephiroth belligerently. 

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed dangerously. He stood up, squaring off against Zack. The SOLDIER stared back unflinchingly. Abruptly Sephiroth sighed. Every night with Zack ended in a fight. He stepped forward, pressing an almost chaste kiss to his firm mouth. Zack allowed it. He brushed Zack's tense jaw with his knuckles, twining the fingers of his other hand with his lover's. Sephiroth reached behind to flick off the single dim light and took them both down to the bed. He half pinned Zack beneath him, his eyes searching Zack's face. The younger man's intense violet eyes flickered uncertainly. Sephiroth sighed again, dropping his head over Zack chest. Disappointed, he shifted his weight, allowing Zack to roll away. 

Zack settled on his side, facing away from him. He felt Sephiroth's palm brush his spine, then hesitantly snake around waist. Pained, Zack closed his eyes as Sephiroth held him closely. What he felt for his lover wasn't true deep love, although it might have been similar. But he couldn't do this much longer without hurting them both. He reached over his head to stroke Sephiroth's neck gently. He left his arm there, the most he'd done in weeks. Sephiroth silently urged Zack to continue, but he didn't. He stopped, leaving his strong arm draped over his neck. Sephiroth forced down a growl of incompleteness. He was not content with merely being close, as Zack seemed to be. He wanted more, but he was reluctant to bring this to Zack's attention. Despite his own internal conflict, he sensed one of greater proportions in Zack and was determined to give him the time he needed. In any case, there was no way he could force Zack and hope to have both of his arms attached come morning. This idea made him smile into the back of Zack's head. His chosen lover was indeed strong, frighteningly so to anyone but Sephiroth.

The general found his refused attention wandering back over the events of they day. He'd have to debrief a number of people tomorrow, in addition to meetings to attend, higher ups to reassure. He'd also be able to get a look at Cloud Strife in the daylight. The brief meeting with the trooper had been disconcerting. Sephiroth hadn't been able to pin down the familiar manner of the boy. He resolved to track the boy down and talk to him at length.

Zack moaned softly in his sleep. Sephiroth abandoned his thoughts instantly, rising up slightly over his lover. Zack's expression was vulnerable, and lined with unease. His muscled body twitched, twisting something in Sephiroth's chest. Zack's withdraw from him was painful, but the worst was not the rejection. It was having to watch Zack suffer alone. 

*****************

This fic most likely will not follow any established information on FF7. This is due mainly to the fact that I have never played the game. If you would like to see this fic continue, your must Review. I will not begin writing the second part until I have at least twenty reviews (this is simply because I have a half dozen other fics in the works and prioritize according to the one people want the most.)

Muchas gracias


	2. Untouchable

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: I hold no claim over this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: Check the bottom- grammatical errors most likely buried some where in this fic. I hope to work them out eventually

Jesavette, 2

------------------------------

[You lie there silently beside me, choking back your tears. I wonder if you recognize the silence now defines us.

Desperately I try to fight this overwhelming sense that I may never find the strength to change how hopeless we've become.

But every time that I touch you, you feel so far away. ]

It was cruelly early the next morning that Sephiroth woke up alone. 

(_Damn him. He was ordered to take the day off.)_

Sephiroth wondered how Zack had left without waking him. Even dead tired, he would have heard a sick man stumbling away from his bed. His first impulse was to track Zack down and drag him back, to force him to explain what was wrong. Sephiroth quickly shook his head. That was out. When they had gotten involved, it was with the understanding that some things couldn't--and wouldn't--be shared. If the other didn't lay it out on the table willingly, it was off-limits. Sephiroth had employed this addendum for some of the more…unsavory matters concerning his career, and Zack often used it to keep Sephiroth from questioning him privately about missions. Sephiroth did know that the medications Zack was taking were used to suppress mako levels. But anything from over exposure to the sun to blood poisoning could require suppressive therapy. But deep within, Sephiroth knew it was nothing simple. Simple did not cause night sweats and bruising. Simple was a runny nose or a strained tendon; not what Zack was dealing with. 

Sephiroth rose to a sitting position and inelegantly scooted back to the headboard. The sheets pooled around his naked hips and he dragged one hand back through is long hair. He could stay in bed and mull over his bizarre relationship with one SOLDIER Zackary, or get up and face the predominantly paperwork hell he'd boxed himself into by accepting the promotion to General. Neither was appealing, but if he got his ass moving, he could catch Zack after morning routines. It would be a strictly professional moment, of course…damn it. He'd like nothing better than to pin Zack down and grill him. Their relation was common knowledge, but they still required a certain amount of discretion and professional courtesy from one another while on duty. 

Annoyed with the wayward path of his thoughts and the sentimentality he was letting himself slip into, Sephiroth tossed back the sheets. He stalked in the nude to his closet, a back part of his mind silently thanking Zack for remembering to pull the blinds. His lover had done it because of Sephiroth's particular dislike of waking up with the sun in his eyes, but all the same, he was grateful. He'd already been reprimanded twice about giving the base an eyeful. He selected one neatly pressed uniform and tossed it on the bed, then snatched up a towel. He crossed the hallway to the bathroom and shouldered open the door. Warm moist air hit him. Sephiroth frowned. Now he was certain something was wrong with him. Zack had taken a _shower_ without waking him? Yes, Zack was trained, but so was Sephiroth. And training didn't have anything to do with the way water flowed through pipes. The General decided that he didn't like this vastly insensitive state he'd entered sometime recently.

He unconsciously set his jaw while he turned on the shower. He spent the few moments trying to find that frustratingly elusive point between freezing cold and scald your ass that Zack seemed to find so naturally. When he finally found an acceptable temperature between hypothermia and heat stroke he stepped in. Love was good and sex was better but when morning came nothing could top a shower. He ran the soap over his lean body, wincing as he hit fresh bruises. They were normal after a round with Zack, but after weeks of being sexually neglected, he'd learned to live without them. Sephiroth would never admit as much but Zack's enhanced form was actually stronger -- many times he'd had to bite back snarling curse after Zack's hazed mind abandoned consideration. Depressingly enough, it often crossed his mind that he wasn't doing Zack's next lover any favor. He would continue with his pattern unless corrected--as a matter of pride Sephiroth dealt with everything Zack could possibly do, but the one after him might not have his stubborn pride, or his resilience

The General felt the urge to bang his head into the wall. Normally he was calm under fire, collected to the point of physical strain and forever watchful. Alone, like he was now, he let his emotions fly. It was annoying as hell to someone as discipline-oriented as him, but it was the best--quickest--way to deal with himself.

(_If only the idiots at Hi-Com could see me now. The great General speaking to himself while he beats his head to the wall. I'd be a wonderful campaign._ This man loved our shower tile so much, he stamped the logo into his forehead.)

Sephiroth's anger with himself had a limit and he was reaching it. All of this retrospect was very well and good, but he had a base to run, and he certainly couldn't do that if he was worrying over a grown man while racking up replacement costs in the shower. He rinsed, deciding not to bother with his long hair today. It would be better not to invite any more memories of he and Zack. He shut of the water, careful to close both valves off equally so he didn't receive a parting icy spray down his back. He stepped out and toweled off roughly, then trekked back to his room as naked as before. He slipped into the uniform and snagged one of Zack's ubiquitous hair ties before he went down stairs. 

As expected, Zack's gear was gone from its place by the door. Signs of his passing were scattered about: the refrigerator door not entirely shut, a coffee cup set precariously close to the edge of the table, a half ounce of sugar sludge crystallizing in the bottom; a muddy boot print. Sephiroth tied off the thick braid of his damp hair and tossed it back over his shoulder. Today was just one of those days he couldn't deal with the hair. He nudged the door shut, moved the coffee cup to the counter and made a mental note to ream Zack about the bootprint. He fixed himself a mug of coffee, forgoing the load of creamer and sugar Zack added. Moving back to the small but comfortably furnished common room, he pulled a stack of files down from an overloaded shelf and settled himself on the couch. He always procured his schedule for the next day from his aide so he would know exactly what he was walking into, always. No need to give the vultures waiting for his downfall a reason to anticipate. He glanced at his watch-- an hour until morning routines were over. That should give him enough time to gather sufficient informational ammo for the predators he'd have to face off against. His father had a favorite saying. Never go hunting with the wrong kind of weapon.

******

Zack ducked under the sword meant to razor his head off. It would have been an impressive display of quick reactions and fluidity… under the right circumstances. He over- rotated, twisting his body to an angle that was not an advantage to him. He struggled against inertia. He landed heavily on his back and elbow, watching a massive blade slicing the air toward his head. His sparring partner realized his fuck up at the same instant he did and tried to pull the attack. Inertia and gravity foiled his attempt. The blade was going down, no matter what the hell he did. He could already hear the review board. _You realize you've just cleaved SOLDIER Zackary's head in two? New plan….we're going to let the General handle your punishment. _

The room was silent enough to hear the blood dripping from Zack's hands. The falling blade was no longer falling, stopped dead by Zack's strong hands clapped around the blade, well over a foot away from his body. No one spoke, and the only movement was that of the thick blood running in rivulets down Zack's wrists. He grunted softly and stared down the length of the blade to the boy wielding it. He the sword began to quiver and Zack outwardly winced as it dug deeper into his palms, producing a fresh flow of blood. "Move the blade somewhere safer before you collapse." Zack ordered. Training kicked in and the boy obediently lifted the sword away from Zack, dropping it somewhere to his left. The movement seemed to startle the crowd pressing close to the arena into action. Vaguely Zack heard someone scamper off to find a base medic.

Several men interposed themselves between Zack and his sparring partner, making sure the kid didn't pass out and hit his head. Zack also noticed they were troopers. Plenty of SOLDIERS were in the crowd, but they didn't react with the same frenzied human need to fix the problem. They didn't react much at all. Zack suddenly saw himself through their eyes.

On his back. Bleeding. Slow. Sloppy. Seems dazed. Previous head trauma? 

Zack abruptly tensed his spine and jackknifed up, rising to his knees before inspecting his palms with clinical detachment. There was too much blood to really see the depth of the damage, though couldn't rule out bone damage. He was not surprised to see that none of the troopers neared him. It was unspoken rule- troopers handled troopers and SOLDIERs took care of their own. The lower classes never encroached on SOLDIER territory, even in cases such as this.

It was several moments before a SOLDIER with a cool voice settled beside him, a towel and a self-sealing bandage in his hand. Zack nodded curtly and mechanically pressed the thick cloth to his wounds, simply ignoring the pain as the mako allowed him to do. Once it had been stanched enough he slapped on the bandage, again expressionless as the materia fibers threaded themselves into his skin and sucked the bandage tight against his flesh. 

"Kind of slow today, Zack," he commented offhandedly while he kept an eye on Zack's palms. Zack almost let fly a comment about Sephiroth's stamina, insinuating of a night of hard sex. He said nothing. There are actually a thousand things he could say, but again, another of those damned unspoken rules interfered: SOLDIERs don't make excuses, even to one another. 

"Whatever." He replied intolerantly. Let them think whatever they wanted. The SOLDIER crouched by him raised an eyebrow but didn't ask. That was the only thing Zack liked about this guy. He kept his mouth shut. He checked the bandage again, satisfied to see no blood seeping around the edges of it. The sealing process was complete. Over-exaggerating the elegance that was natural to him, he rose. He briefly caught the eye of his younger sparring partner and nodded before turning away. He had to take a shower and do damage control. Word of this would be all over the base in under an hour and Sephiroth would no doubt track him down and force him to explain. 

__

(If I didn't want to someone worrying over me, I shouldn't have gotten involved…but then a teenager doesn't have much say over raging hormones.)

Zack stepped past his unwanted escort and walked away. The other merely watched him go, then turned to divert the medic to the locker room when he arrived.

In the locker room. Zack gave the knobs to the shower a random twist, finding a comfortable medium after a very slight adjustment. Stripped naked liberally bruised, Zack stepped under the flow of water. The water slapping the bandage stung. He resolutely kept his hand against his leg to avoid that. The hand with the lesser gash, the unbandaged one, suffered the needle spray of water and the powerful sting of soap. Zack took his time washing his hair. He had no desire to see a medic again, or Sephiroth, and as long as he stayed in the locker room shower he was relatively safe from both. 

Telling Sephiroth would make things miles easier for him. Stonewalling a General was hard enough after Shinra's rigorous training. Dodging the questions of Sephiroth and forcibly divorcing his lover from part of his life was beyond difficult. But Zack steeled up to managed it, day after day. No matter how much Sephiroth loved--or thought he loved-- him, he wouldn't allow Zack to remain on active duty if he knew. He was first and foremost a General, carrying Shinra's best interests at the front of his mind.

Zack leaned against the wall thoughtfully. He didn't notice the water going cold until he started to shiver. He shut off the shower, welcoming that last icy burst and wrapped the towel around his nakedness before stepping out of the enclosed stall. He stopped long enough to gather up his clothes and slip his ident tags back on before leaving the showers.

The medic was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, unperturbed that Zack had kept him waiting nearly an hour. He simply put down the magazine he was thumbing through and waited for Zack to get some pants on before motioning firmly for him to sit down. Zack complied with an irritable sigh, holding out his right hand. A concrete, coldly lit locker room was not the best place to have someone poking at you, but anything was better then the base hospital. He'd spent enough time there after his last mission and had come dangerously close choking someone with his own IV line. 

The medic sprinkled some materia on his palm and the bandage instantly loosened. He gently tugged it off and replaced it with a waiting compress. After several minutes he removed the compress and poked at the wound, probing for depth and foreign objects. "Deep," He grunted. He rummaged in his bag and produced a hypodermic. Zack withdrew his hand. "No, I can't-"

"I'm well aware that you can't have any mako-boosting compounds right now," the medic said evenly. "Dr. Orbson is a close colleague of mine. There is a particular reason I was sent, instead of someone else."

Zack gazed at him. The medic sighed. "This is regular clotting agent, the kind I use on non-enhanced troopers. There's also a mild nerve blocker in it."

Zack pressed his lip together in a firm line and finally relented, allowing the medic to inject him. Almost instantly, his hand went numb. "I though you said mild."

"You can still use your hand, can't you?"

Zack wiggled his fingers. "Yes."

"Then it's mild. Hold still, SOLDIER." The medic began pinning the flesh shut with adhesive strips infused with a healing materia. "With your mako levels pushed so low, this won't heal even a quarter as fast as your accustomed to. Take it easy for a few days." He gathered up his things and shoved them back into his kit. He rose, touched his forehead and quietly left the locker room. 

Zack sat for several minutes, thoughtfully rubbing his thumb over his palm. He finally rose, albeit reluctantly and dressed himself fully. Sephiroth was probably already waiting to corner him. 

******

Cloud was alone in the barracks, sleeping uneasily. His body was fighting the sedative, putting a new strain on him. In the midst of the biological-chemical struggle, an idea floated through his head like a wayward mist. It slipped past his working mind reminding him that there was something unsolved, but faded away before he could grasp what. It was about something from long ago, something he knew was important. But he couldn't remember what.

He wasn't aware of the transition to a dream after his body lost against the sedative. He was a young boy again, sitting on the floor of his father's lab, happily playing with some bit of tool, listening, as his father talked quietly to him, saying nothing in particular. He recited elemental tables, compounds, lab safety rules, and finally began to tell Cloud about his problems concerning his latest project. Apparently something wasn't melding right and it was frustrating him. His mother wasn't in the dream because she was sick-- with what was unknown, but it was just one of those obscure certainties that one doesn't worry about in dreams. Cloud spent days as he was now, listening to his father, the details and equations of his father's project filling his mind until he had a clear picture. One day he stopped playing. He walked to his father side and tugged on the lab coat. He was obligingly lifted up and sat on the table next to his father's arm. The elder man smiled warmly at him and poked his cheek. Cloud made a face, then solemnly tugged the pencil from his father's hand a reached over to the spreadsheet of equations. His pencil touched a specific equation--an uncompleted one. He made a note in a shaky hand and quickly added in the missing variable to solve it. He offered the pencil back to his father, but he was gaping, switching shocked blue eyes from his work to his son and back again. After forever he snatched Cloud up and danced around the room.

"Do you know what you've done?" He crowed. "You've solved it! My boy solved it." He set Cloud on his feet and kissed him, much to his five-year-olds embarrassment. He sobered up and looked Cloud straight in the eye. "Tell me son. Did you know what you were doing?"

Cloud nodded. He'd known. It was obvious to him and he was certain daddy could have gotten it sooner or later.

"Do you think you could do that again, son?"

Again, Cloud nodded. 

"Then I have something I want you to look at, Cloud…"

The next days were spent with father and son running ideas back and forth like a seasoned lab team. An instant in his dream passed, a distortion of time that Cloud's subconscious totaled as a week. They found a resolution to a project that had been discontinued--impossibility cited, but real reason unknown. 

His dream cut of abruptly. Cloud objected fervently. There was more to the dream; it was actually a memory. He was flooded by a strong feeling that what he needed was buried in that memory. But it had already slipped away, only the lingering sense of contentment and joy of being with his father again remained. 

Frustration entered his battle to wake up, causing more conflict. He struggled uselessly, growing increasing agitated. His subconscious, his only part not captured by the drug, sadly told him that this had to be one of the worst nights in his life.

A stray thought drifted to him. Not true…

******

Reno shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He hated being on the spot, and the briefings going on all day had put him just there. 

"Explain it again," a colonel told him.

Reno bit back a smart-ass remark and recited for the fourth time that day, " We were getting out asses kicked. This kid-"

"Cloud Strife."

"-Stepped in and kept us from being splattered across the trenches."

"You stated earlier that he disarmed a detonator that was thrown in the trench by enemy forces?"

"Rewired," Reno said impatiently. 

"What of the second charge? There were two, correct?"

"Yeah. Two. The first he lobbed back at them and the second he tossed beyond the trenches, to clear a path back to the base's perimeter." 

"All right. Now we have several troopers giving us witness accounts of what happened afterwards, but those testimonies have been deemed unreliable. The troops giving them have suffered battle stress and the like." The colonel laughed without mirth. "To be honest, their testimonies are ridiculous. Absolutely impossible, which is why they were deemed as such. Please tell us what _YOU_ saw."

Grinding his teeth together, Reno explained again. They wouldn't accept it; his account was going to be no different than the others. These morons absolutely refused to accept that an un-enhanced Trooper was capable of such a thing.

Reno had long since realized that Cloud was not normal, by any standards.

******

Sephiroth wasn't waiting for him as expected, but he soon feel in step with Zack. The General vibrated with a barely controlled anger that only Zack could see. It was like watching a snake that only he knew was poisonous.

"You disobeyed a direct order," Sephiroth said in a low voice as they walked through the base.

"What was that?" Zack replied quietly.

"You were told not to report for duty today."

A humorless smile touched his lips. "That wasn't an order."

Sephiroth's gaze slid to him, outraged. "The hell it wasn't, Zack. I specifically told you to stay home."

Zack was already shaking his head. "Quit acting like I deserted or something, Sephiroth. You did not give me an order. You gave me a suggestion."

Sephiroth roughly steered Zack off to a less obvious place. "My tone was not-"

"Your tone," Zack cut in, "has nothing to do with this. We were off duty, Sephiroth. Anything you might have told me was only a forceful suggestion." 

Sephiroth stared into Zack's eyes, infuriated but at the same time, almost relieved. The subtle shifting of the deep glow was normal for an angered SOLDIER. Whatever had come over Zack last night after they'd fallen asleep was still there. He'd woken up with Zack's face inches from his, strong fingers skimming over his jaw. It was the most normal behavior Zack had displayed in a month. Sephiroth had taken advantage of it, pulling the younger man into his arms. He could still distinctly feel Zack writhing beneath him, twisting the sheets in his grip as Sephiroth relentlessly drove them both over the edge. 

Zack was still staring at him with that particular look that said he knew exactly what he was thinking. Sephiroth had been disconcerted the first time Zack had shown him this and it still unnerved him to know that someone was capable of reading his thoughts. He then noticed the angry red flesh on Zack's palm. He wanted to reach out and grab Zack's wrist, to lay his hand flat in his own but they were in plain sight, and the rules of personal engagement in public kept him at arms length. Instead he gestured. "What happened?" 

"Slip up during a sparring lesson with on of the troopers. Caught his blade with my hands."

Sephiroth absorbed this. "You did what?" The blades were kept sharpened to a razor edge that could cut through steel or silk. Touching one was inviting a lost finger or a severed artery. 

"It was better than having my head chopped off. " Zack shrugged carelessly. "It'll be fine in a few days." 

Sephiroth frowned. "I assume you haven't had a booster materia applied?" Such materia temporarily skyrocketed the amount of Mako infusing the cells near a wound. It allowed SOLDIERs to heal more rapidly. However, it was not suitable for anyone on suppressive therapy. 

Zack matched his frown with a scowl of his own. "No. I haven't. It'll be fine." 

"You still haven't explained how it happened."

Zack blinked. "I was careless. And tired, which by the way, was your fault."

"That wouldn't have mattered if you had stayed home today like I-"

"-Ordered?" Zack raised an eyebrow. "I don't take orders off duty, Seph." He stepped past him to leave and paused to murmur in his ear. "Not before, during, or after sex."

Sephiroth turned his head to watch Zack walk away, a sickening sensation of something twisting in his chest. He was really getting sick of being subjected to his emotions.

"Wait, Zack. Are you going to be at home tonight?"

Zack turned and shook his head, his expression somewhere between thoughtful and despondent. "I have night duty." 

******

One of Cloud's new bunkmates grinned up at him. "About time you woke up sleeping beauty."

Cloud rubbed his eyes and checked his watch. He was too lethargic to care that it was past three in the afternoon. He sat up, his head protesting violently at the sudden shift and he had to wait for his equilibrium to catch up. He yawned and ran a slender hand though his hair. "Why wasn't I woken up?"

"General's orders. Anyone involved at Kelby was allowed to sleep as long as they needed and wake up on their own. You just slept longer than anyone else," he added when Cloud looked dubiously around the empty room. 

"Hn. Are they debriefing?"

"Since six-fucking-am." The trooper's venomous expression lightened. "Word is they're paying close attention to that shit you pulled in the trench at twenty hours after the initial attack."

"Great." Cloud moved to the metal cabinet at the end of his bed and hunted for his stuff. Then he remembered it was all at the kelby base. "Oh, beautiful." He growled. He turned to find the other recruit smirking at him. "The other's did the same thing. Really proves the theory that all Shinra bases are constructed from the same set of blueprints." 

"No shit," Cloud replied. These barracks were identical to the ones at Kelby. The other recruit moved to bed down and dug around in the metal footlocker there. "Here," he said, tossing a pair of pants and a sleeveless shirt at Cloud. "Use these until they issue your stuff later on this afternoon."

Cloud, who was still wearing the same filthy BDU's he'd arrived in last night, gratefully took the clothes. The pants were a worn out grey and slashed at the knee to use as summer wear. The shirt was newer and was made of some material Cloud hadn't seen before, but was incredibly comfortable. "Thanks."

"No problem, Strife."

"Hey, do they need me for debreifing today?" Cloud's words were muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head. 

"No. They're going by last name, and it's only A through M's today. Besides, they're still just getting statements, not talking in depth."

"Good." Cloud cracked his neck and then worked his jaw in a circle.

"Yup. You have the rest of the day to screw around. Just tell someone where you're going." The trooper smiled in a very different way. "There's a nice piece of tail down at the C barracks-"

"No." Cloud said shortly. He pulled his ident tags off his neck and wrapped them around his wrist.

"You don't like girls?" 

"I don't like Shinra girls," Cloud answered. 

The other boy made a face. "I can relate. They either turn you down and file a harassment charge…"

"Or they screw you and_ then _file a harassment charge," Cloud finished. 

"So where you going, then?"

"Water." The base was situated at the edge of beach, with the ocean beyond. Cloud headed out of the barracks.

"Whoa, you're going barefoot?"

"Sure. Problem?" Cloud asked curiously.

"Yeah, like a no bare feet rule on base."

Cloud smirked this time. "No one will notice."

"Yeah, uh-huh. You planning on putting on a full uniform and wearing a mask? Cause that will defeat the purpose anyway."

"No, nothing special. They just won't notice me."

The Trooper shook his head. "You pretty damn confident, kid." 

"Look, unless they want a good hop in the sack, no one notices me, all right?" Cloud couldn't keep the traces of bitterness from his voice.

"Shit, all right, all right. Sorry I pushed it." The trooper backed away and let Cloud brush past him. He watched Cloud walk away and noted that the kid was indeed extraordinarily good looking, but quickly stowed any thoughts following. The significance of the tattoo on the back of Cloud's shoulder wasn't common knowledge but he happened to know it, and knew better than to screw around with anyone bearing it. 

Whoever did try to force the kid would be toying with fire.

[But every time that I touch you, you feel so far away]

------------------------

Well, now…What's going on with our Cloud? *snicker* do join us next time for the third installment of Jesavette.

Notes: All right, so I didn't wait until I had 20 reviews to start writing. After a new flood of fics bumped me back to the third page, I figured 14 was all I was going to get. I also didn't want the jackals to eat my liver. But the rule still stands. No more until you review… a whole lot. Say…10? Secondly, this didn't start out as AU, but it's going there fast and since this Irish leprechaun has have no desire to stick me little feet out the door and stop this runaway train manually…it's going to be AU. 

* Passes hand in front of you* You will review…You will Review…. And yes I _DO_ think I'm a Jedi waving my hand around like that.

Lyrics © 2000 Stabbing Westward

__


	3. Can't remember normal life

Final Fantasy

Jesavette

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: Only this fic belongs to me. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: Check bottom- grammatical errors likely to be found. I will work them out over time.

Jesavette, 3

-------------------------

As assured, Cloud slipped away unnoticed. Once outside the base it was a half mile straight out to the ocean's edge. Cloud wondered at the wisdom of basing a large percent of seasoned Shinra troops so close to a body of water, but he'd already learned that Shinra was arrogant. Stupidity seemed to be a common factor as well-- why else would anyone run classified material through a _training_ base. 

A warm wind blew, tossing his unruly hair around on his head. Cloud enjoyed the feel of sun on his skin. The cold at Kelby had settled deep in his joints, making every movement feel like an ungainly exertion. As he stood there now he could feel the heat burning the chill from him. He was aware that he looked silly, standing in bare feet and soaking in the sun, but it was a moment he'd escaped to when lying in battle zone of frozen mud and bodies became too much. He'd come very close to cracking up several times. Fits of trembling and immobility would strike him at odd moments, sparked off by a bomb no different than the hundred others, or seeing a gaping wound bleeding freely like dozens before it. Cloud was certain that Sergeant Kiler was aware of those moments where Cloud had lost his preserving cool but he had not spoken of it, to Cloud or anyone else. 

The youthful blond dropped his sun-warmed face and gingerly reached to the sand beyond the grass. It was predictably scorching. Cloud curled his lip. He hopped down into the sand with both feet and took off at a loping jog, jerking his feet from the sand as soon as they touched down. Shocks of pain zapped the pads of his feet. He did his best to spare the raised blisters caused by his boots, but hot sand is an unbeatable enemy. He inwardly sighed when his toes hit the packed sand at the water's edge. The coolness of the sand was soothing to his overheated and broken blisters.

__

His father holding him high in his arms, laughing as he raced them both across the sand to foaming water.

Cloud recoiled from the unbidden memory. It was like the bitter after taste of something once sweet. He stubbornly turned from the part of his mind where he kept his father locked away. ( _It's been nearly ten years, Strife. Get a grip already. He's dead.)_

Physically he six feet under and out of Cloud's life forever. But the memories howled and raged against a mental cage that Cloud didn't touch. He should have dealt with his feelings long ago, but so they had been left to lie for so long that he couldn't touch them without being burned. Cloud really couldn't berate himself. Survival was necessary and becoming emotionally blank had been the only way to accomplish that. He had resorted to some new lows, and had the marks to prove it. The blissful blankness had remained intact, saving his sanity and his conscience. Even after it eventually retreated, he refused to address the memories. Subconsciously, Cloud was afraid. Much like someone who had forgotten what they put in a box long ago, Cloud couldn't recall the exactly what all he had banished with the memories of his father, but knew there was something dangerous to him now. He distantly felt a rage foreign to him. 

__

(Back off from there Cloud, you're getting too close.)

The mental warning snapped him away from a place he hadn't intended to drift. He shook his head fiercely to jar his brain. 

Cloud stepped closer to the water. He dug his toes into the sand and wiggled them as the water skimmed over, sluicing away the grains. He watched the water as it ran in intersecting rivulets, sparkling brilliantly as it swept back to the ocean. It was like standing sideways in a waterfall for Cloud. He thought he should be falling sideways, expected it, but he merely swayed off balance as the water rushed over the sand.

Cloud absently bent over his knees to search for a nice shell. His mother had a collection of them form her childhood near the water. She had shown them to him once. He though if he found a nice one, he should send it to her. He didn't write as promised, or really much at all. Most of his frustrations came out in his letters no matter how hard he tried to remain cheerful. Details worked their way in as well. Boring military details that filled everyday of his life but look pitifully unsubstantial on paper. He sent her gifts now instead, little things from where ever he was. Nothing could fill the longing for words from her son, but the gifts let her know he cared without revealing too much. He convinced himself that it was enough.

And so he bobbed face down in the water with his blue eyes closed. His fingertips searched the silky sand at the bottom for a shell. He occasionally withdrew sharply when he encountered something unpleasant. His motion disturbed one very small shark, startling Cloud nearly out of his wits when the triangular fin cut the water in front of his face. He shot out of the water, gasping lightly and repeating a steadying mantra to himself until he calmed enough to resume his search. Finding a nice shell became his unintended mission for the day. When he did find a shell he would stand up and shake the water from his hair and eyes to look before inevitably deciding it wasn't right and tossing it back for another someone to find. He examined one especially large shell in the bright light before sighing and dropping it back as well. This was clam region. There had to be a nice shell somewhere. 

Cloud trudged back to dry land. He flipped his soaking hair from his face and flopped down on the sand. The water could still reach him, running up to dance around his ankles teasingly before swishing away again. Cloud smiled a bit and narrowed his eyes against the glare to look out to the far sea. It was much darker than the crystal waters he played in and glittered deeply in the sun. Out of habit he reached up and tugged the seam resting on his right shoulder. The shirt pulled awkwardly, wrinkling across his back. He did this to ensure that the tattoo was fully covered. The symbolism was sour to Cloud. It was one of the two marks from defining moments. The other was a pale scar angled across his hip. 

He hadn't realized he was digging his fingers into the sand until his fingernails scratched something. He looked down to see while showing through the sand. Out of curiosity he dug the shell up. After rinsing the wet sand away, he held it up. It was whole; free of chipping and fragmentation that marred many shells. The pure alabaster white radiated out into a dazzling pink hue. Cloud genuinely smiled. It was pretty enough for his mother. He tucked it gently under his watchband. He'd found another shell earlier but he wanted to keep that one for himself. 

The sun was sinking lower now; it was past five. Dinner would be served soon. Cloud wasn't missing much as far as he was concerned. Base food was like base architecture. It was all pretty bland. He did notice the even footsteps approaching him from behind but he didn't feel the need to get tense over it. It was either the relative tranquility of his day-- uninterrupted sleep and time to himself-- or if it was another weird foresight from his instincts. The large man that towered over him somehow wasn't threatening. If his instincts were missing something then he was screwed, but he couldn't get even the slightest bit uneasy. 

"You alone out here kid?"

Cloud nodded without inhibition. A modest smile crossed the man's face. He crouched down some feet away from Cloud inside his line of sight. One of Cloud's eyebrows arched. The man seemed comfortable balanced on his toes. He saw Cloud's look and flashed another smile, this one a little wider. "Have to be on duty in an hour. Can't get sand on my uniform."

Cloud's other eyebrow raised. "You plan on staying here for an hour?" He asked.

"Depends."

Cloud went along with his playful tone. "Depends on what?"

The man grinned for the third time and Cloud decided he liked the flashy nature of it. "Depends on how long I can stay like this."

Cloud snorted. The man's assessing gaze on him was even and impersonal. Cloud returned it. The other man wasn't as old as he thought, maybe early twenties. His uniform and self assurance marked him as a SOLDIER, as did the eerie violet eyes, the natural color replaced by materia tinting. Fading threadlike scars wrapped over his forearms. Only someone who spent much time sword sparring acquired scars like that. Cloud himself was better suited to high speed rushing assaults or low attacks. Almost without fail Cloud won hand to hand battles with lower body hits.

"I don't recognize you," The SOLDIER commented. "Did you come in with the Kelby people?"

"Yes."

Cloud's minimal response didn't bother Zack. It was better that things didn't get to elaborate. He didn't want to identify himself just yet. He let the kid sit in silence and turned his face up to the comfortable breeze. The coming night rode on the light wind. It was scented like water and one of the indigenous flowers that grew in the area. It was a small flower, the same color of blue as Cloud's eyes. Zack looked the boy over again. Without the grime and stern expression, Cloud Strife was delicately handsome. His fine even features stood out in the fading sunshine. 

The sunlight flashed through Cloud's hair when he turned to Zack. "Did I see you last night?"

Zack inclined his head. "Probably. There were a lot of us down there in the middle for it." Zack had been in the middle of it, but that wasn't where Cloud had seen him. Zack had been just behind Sephiroth's shoulder giving out orders when the two of them had talked.

Cloud leaned forward and draped his arms around his shins. His contemplative expression was an uncanny resemblance to Sephiroth. Zack leaned forward to watch him without really meaning to. It was habit from earlier years with Sephiroth, when everything was still new and wondrous. He forgot momentarily that this kid might object to being scrutinized.

Cloud's unnatural blue eyes slitted. He didn't care for the personal way the SOLDIER was watching him. The SOLDIER seemed realized it quickly and sat back. He picked up his impassive amusement again. Cloud was finding that half smile he wore to be infuriating. It seemed as if he was deliberately keeping something from Cloud. 

Once again the SOLDIER seemed to read his thoughts. The half smile dropped away. Cloud shut his eyes. He really didn't like the way he was being second-guessed. 

Zack sensed he was aggravating the kid and decided it was time to leave. He annoyed a lot of people right off. He found the best way to work around this was to leave before they got sick of him. He rocked on his toes and pushed himself upright.

"Leaving so soon?" There was a touch of sarcasm in the kid's voice.

"Sure." Zack squinted at the sky. "Might as well. You're getting annoyed with me…" Zack brushed at his pant leg, " And staying here is just tempting fate." 

Cloud was startled by SOLDIER's offhand comment about his feelings. He was beginning to think that Zack had that rare gift-- natural intuition concerning people. 

Zack folded his arms and smiled down at him, his luminescent eyes shaded. "I'll see you around, kid."

(_Promise?)_ Cloud blinked at himself. (_Where the hell did that come from?)_ "Yeah. See you around."

Zack made a face and nudged Cloud's leg with the sandy toe of his boot. "Lighten up, kid. Life is pretty good if you give it a chance."

"I'm sure," Cloud grumbled. Zack rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. You've been knocked around some, so you're just going to give it up completely." Cloud's tight jawed reaction answered him. Zack exhaled in exasperation and crouched down again. Cloud leaned away. Zack noted the action. "You don't trust me, that's fine. But will you consider some advice born of experience?" His gaze bored into Cloud until the boy reluctantly nodded.

"All right then. Shutting out the world doesn't work."

"What does?"

Zack rose. "If you figure that one out, you'll have to tell me. Catch you later."

"Bye," Cloud said faintly. He drew lines in the sand between his knees. He had already come to the same conclusion that emotionally castrating himself wasn't the best idea, but it was the easiest way to deal. His mind whispered that unless you dealt, you couldn't really live.

__

( But what's life if you can't feel?)

******

Sephiroth buried his inner turmoil far below where the little voice couldn't be heard. He was needed to help filter the emotion-tainted information from the real data concerning the Kelby assault.

The red haired Turk tried to hurdle the table between himself and a corporal. Standing rigidly, he glared across the table. his teeth were bared in an impressive resemblance to an animal preparing to tear the legs of its prey. The corporal, as arrogant as he was, stupidly ignored these warning signs and continued to smile smugly. After watching from the opposite side of a one-way mirror, Sephiroth entered at the moment the corporal would have lost the use of his arms, minimum. He pinned the Turk with a gaze that convinced him to sit and then said smoothly, "Corporal."

The corporal saluted crisply. He wasn't the least bit sorry for provoking the Turk, but he stood at attention for the general.

Sephiroth refused to tolerate respect directly on the heels of blatant contempt. He sized up the Corporal for thrashing and added the superior that indulged this sort of two-faced behavior to his hit list. "Leave now, Corporal."

"Sir?" The subservient smile faltered but not the way Sephiroth would have liked. It was becoming obvious that a reminder was necessary. "Corporal, what was one of the first things you were taught?"

"To show the proper respect, sir," he answered promptly.

"Keep going." Sephiroth said calmly. " What I want falls under that category."

A helpless look dawned on his face. His eyes flicked around the room, as if he could search out the answer his superior was looking for. Finally he said, "Never question a superior."

"Correct." He propelled the boy toward the door, which had dutifully been opened by an attentive assistant. "Do not come back here." Sephiroth gestured and the assistant shut the door again. The General crossed his hands comfortably behind his back and eyed the young Turk. His features had been smoothed, but Sephiroth could see that he was seething just below the surface. The Turks were not especially well known for their even tempers but they were renowned for their self-control. This one, as young as he looked, seemed to be no exception. " I apologize," he said formally. 

The Turk shrugged, his irrepressible good nature rebounding in front of Sephiroth. "None necessary. Throwing him out of the room was enough." He smirked. His anger was either entirely dissipated, or well buried. "Pardon my lack of control, there."

"Perfectly all right," Sephiroth cordially replied to him. He looked around at the room, and while clean and brightly lit, it was small. "I'd probably have a bad reaction or two from being cooped up in here. Speaking of which," Sephiroth frowned, "howlong have you been in here?"

The Turk glanced at his watch. " Four hours, give or take." 

Sephiroth's icy eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Preliminaries did _not_ require four hours of questioning. Fifteen minutes, maximum. In his mind's eye he could see the colonel in charge of the basic interrogations cringing behind the one way glass mirror. Unacceptable. Heads would roll. Specifically his. Sephiroth turned to stare at the mirrored wall. There was no way he could see in but it wasn't necessary to convey displeasure.

"Then lets not waste more of your time," Sephiroth said coolly, turning back to the Turk. "Mr…?"

"Reno. I'd be waiting for my father or uncle to answer if you call me anything else."

Sephiroth nodded. "What exactly have they been questioning you about, Reno?"

Reno shifted, a shadow passing over his composed features. "Same thing they're asking everyone else about. Cloud Strife."

Sephiroth's reaction was unnoticeable. The Strife boy again. He had haunted his mind at subliminal levels the hours he hadn't been preoccupied with Zack the night before. Sephiroth still didn't understand why. The boy's name meant nothing to him and he was certain he would have remembered a face like that. But he stuffed down the self-inspection to listen to Reno.

"….did some impressive stuff at Kelby, but the idiots here refuse to believe it. They've been questioning everyone, hoping for a 'real' answer. One they believe anyway."

Sephiroth filed it away, all of it. The Turk's lack of respect to the face of a superior, the implication that Reno was a first hand witness and that whatever it was, it had the brass shaking their heads in denial. Somehow that fit with the nagging feeling inside him where the boy was concerned. "I'm going to go on the assumption that the testimonies are on record, however ludicrous they may sound, and let you go."

Reno's blasé attitude was belied by the way he bolted to his feet. "About time," he declared recklessly. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "Sir," Reno added hastily.

Sephiroth gestured that he was free to go, following with another gesture for the onlookers to let him leave without incident. Then he stepped into the hall and swept open the next door down. "Come with me, Higel, now."

******

"FOUR HOURS."

Higel was admirably still as Sephiroth dressed him down in a deceptively calm tone. Behind the professional mask was a glinting promise of danger to those experienced enough to see it. Higel saw it and feared it.

"This was not to be a full investigation. This was only preliminary questioning. You do remember the purpose of preliminary questioning?" Sephiroth asked coldly with a raised brow.

" To get an idea of where to start the actual debreifing and scenario reconstruction."

"Exactly. So tell me again _WHY_ you had the Turk in DB for more than four hours."

"After hearing about the unlikely performance of the Strife boy, I though a more thorough questing was in order--"

"Not your decision to make, I remind you."

" Yes sir--I thought a more thorough question was in order, especially given the impossibility of the stated achievements."

Sephiroth leaned back into his chair and steepled his fingers. The file on his desk lay closed. He didn't need to read it again. Every time the name _Strife_ was mentioned, something inside shivered. Sephiroth allowed none of his discomfort on the subject matter to show, however. He was too well trained, too accustomed to closely guarding himself to lower a barrier like that. But he did agree, the file read like a mock up of his own. He'd been enhanced at some degree all of his life so his achievements weren't that farfetched. Maybe the boy was as well? It wouldn't explain his unease around the boy but he would like to blame it on something for the time being. 

"All right. I can't spare you just so I can sit here and ream you out for the day. Stick to the profile for prelim questions, note irregularities, suspicions, etcetera. But DO NOT make any more of your own decisions, I don't care how badly it flies in the face of the laws of probability."

"Sir." Higel stood and saluted.

Sephiroth opened up one of his bottom drawers and dumped the Strife incident file in it. Another letter marked 'Confidential' sat on his desk. It wasn't there when Sephiroth had passed through earlier. He sliced the envelope and unfolded the letter within.

__

Be advised: Scouts reporting existence of new weapon in enemy hands. The exact description of this weapon is not yet available. Possible that weapon had been deployed once already. More information pending.

Destroy this notice at once.

The letter was tucked back into its envelope and disintegrated in a flash of green flame from Sephiroth's fingers. "Mena!"

The curvy assistant stuck her head in, red curls bouncing. She and the Turk could be related. "Yes, General?"

"Cancel my engagements for the day." Sephiroth rounded his desk and brushed past the woman before she could answer

The front door to the housing he shared with Zack bore many scuff marks and Sephiroth added one more kicking it open. He shrugged out of his heavy over coat and uniform dress jacket. Both were tossed carelessly over the back of a nearby chair and Sephiroth headed straight for the liquor cabinet. Hidden behind crystal decanters of delicate wine and light champagne was the brassy selection of proof alcohol that Zack kept. Sephiroth chose the scotch and liberated a tumbler from the specialty cubbyhole. 

He sank down into a leather chair, a gift from some dignitary. Sephiroth poured a shot and downed it in one gulp. His next shot was more generous. 

The great general had many demons that he had continually failed to exorcise. The largest and most fearsome stemmed from one of his first missions as a SOLDIER. He'd been part of a strike team, sent out to eliminate a threat. The threat had come from inside Shinra itself and Sephiroth had been forced by his superior to commit the vile act of executing civilians. He was still unable to rend the young screams from his mind. 

******

(_How in the hell do I end up helping everyone all the time?_)

Cloud slapped another file down in his lap. With a pen tucked behind his ear he made notes in the margins of the pages. He'd been caught coming back to base nearly three hours before by the good Dr. himself. Orbson had instantly made the connection between young blond and Cloud Strife and started asking questions on the various people that had been treated on the field, the condition, the severity of their wounds…because the files were incomplete. Cloud had finally sighed and told him that if he would just give him the files he'd add all the necessary stuff. As the primary field medic-- the _only_ one, really-- he would have to do it eventually. 

The next file in Cloud's stack was labeled in _Zackary _in a different pen. After skimming it he was certain it didn't belong in his hands. He cradled is in one hand and moved to flip it shut when his eye was caught by a hand written note tagged to the bottom of a sheet filled with medical jargon.

__

Mako cells replicating. Unknown stimulus has revved up amplification time; physical structure deteriorating. Symptoms not present before mission #77645…. Relevance?

Cloud frowned to himself and went back to read the symptoms carefully. He remembered reading something almost identical to this. A projected results study, attached to one of the projects he'd been helping his father on. It was a random thought, completely out of the blue and mostly likely unrelated. But his medical training and extensive knowledge couldn't provide another viable explanation for the reported symptoms. Frowning deeper, he flipped back to the Dr. personal notes. 

__

Condition is thus unknown, as is the cause. Symptoms not entirely unheard of, but never observed together. Suppressive therapy beginning to fail. So far no other viable options. No new studies found that are even remotely related.

A thread of unease began to worm through is mind. Surely it was just misdiagnosed, or two conditions compounding one another. It couldn't be related to the project he'd been working with his father. That project had been abandoned-- his own father had declared it impractical. An overheard conversation not for little ears had also included ' _amoral_' and ' _fucked up idea of an advantage._' 

But if someone had revived the project, _MADE_ it viable and had the utter lack of conscience needed to go through with it…Shinra was completely unprepared.

Cloud committed the mission number to memory and slipped the file back into the bottom of the stack. 

******

The windows of the small house he shared with Sephiroth shone dimly with an inner light. Zack wondered why Sephiroth would still be up. The door shut quietly behind him and dumped his stuff at its usual place. The potted fern by the door teetered dangerously-- one of Sephiroth's idiosyncrasies. Zack steadied it as he passed.

Only a small light recessed into the display case across the room was on. Sephiroth was slouched down in a leather chair with a half empty bottle of scotch sitting on the end table beside him. A crystal tumbler danged from his fingers. Despite being obviously intoxicated, Sephiroth's eyes were clear. He was expressionless as he met Zack's gaze. 

Zack asked him, "What are you doing?" 

"Drinking," Sephiroth replied placidly. He slowly raised his glass. "Care for some?"

"No."

Sephiroth shrugged. 

Zack crouched down contemplatively in front of Sephiroth. "Did something happen?"

"Depends on your definition." Sephiroth laughed caustically. "But yes, something happened that I'd like to forget " Humorlessly, Sephiroth raised the tumbler to his eye level as if to augment his point about forgetting.

Zack rubbed his closed eyes. "Come with me." He said. He held out one hand to Sephiroth.

Sephiroth looked from Zack's piercing eyes to his outstretched hand. Zack gripped his cold fingers and pulled him from his chair. He willingly followed Zack up the stairs and to their bedroom.

Zack slipped behind Sephiroth. He wrapped his arms around him, holding Sephiroth close. Sephiroth sank backward into the firm embrace, rolling his head back. Zack angled his head to kiss the hinge of Sephiroth's jaw. Whispering in his ear, Zack asked, "What happened, lover?" 

"Too much," Sephiroth murmured back. He let Zack shuffle them over to the bed and twisted around. He met him halfway, nipping at his lower lip. Sephiroth ducked his head forward to capture Zack's mouth. The SOLDIER tested the smooth edged of his teeth. Sephiroth laid his fingers on Zack's jaw. He enjoyed feeling the strong muscles working there as Zack kissed him, his tongue running over the broken skin inside Sephiroth cheek where he had unknowingly bitten down in his drunken haze. Zack's mouth left his, kissing the underside of his jaw and moving back to the curve of his neck. Sephiroth gripped his upper arms, allowing Zack to quietly overwhelm him. his lips skimmed over his ear. "Hold on," he whispered. He gently untagged himself Sephiroth's grip and pulled off the stifling uniform jacket. Tiredly, Zack sat on the bed to unlace his boots. Sephiroth sank down on the mattress behind him. His strong hands began methodically squeezing and stroking his lover's shoulders. Zack groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. Sephiroth moved lower, manipulating the tense muscles on Zack's back. 

Zack pulled his feet up to sit cross-legged while Sephiroth continued the wonderful assault on his muscles. When he stopped Zack made a dissatisfied noise but he wrapped his arms around Zack and dragged him back to lie with him. Zack rolled and pressed his lips to Sephiroth's again. His hands drifted low and came back up pulling Sephiroth's shirt over his head. Deft fingers undid the general's belt buckle and freed his hips and muscled legs from the uncomfortable dress uniform. Zack locked his elbows and braced himself over Sephiroth. The older man pulled the shirt off with practiced ease and some quick adjustments by Zack. It was an old pattern, well familiar to the both of them. Zack smiled down at him, locking his shoulders and lowering just enough to brush his mouth against Sephiroth's while continuing to hold himself above his body. Sephiroth stripped off the remains of Zack's uniform and pulled him back down. His warm flesh blanketed Sephiroth's. Sephiroth groaned into Zack's mouth. Zack's smile pressed into his skin and he shifted, covering more of Sephiroth with himself. 

The general trailed his fingertips down Zack's back, exploring the trench of his spine and the half dozen scars marking the tanned flesh. Zack fingers tangled and combed through his hair, fanning it out on the bed. Sephiroth nipped at his shoulder, sinking his teeth into the yielding skin. Zack didn't utter a sound. He turned his head to watch Sephiroth draw blood. After a drawn out moment he let go, kissing the wound and swiping the blood away. He shifted abruptly, grinding himself against Zack. The SOLDIER allowed himself to be rolled, automatically adopting one a more natural position; one of several they'd learned over the years. Sephiroth slid down, setting them up for the ultimate act.

The familiar stinging began. Zack clenched his jaw and flexed his fingers over Sephiroth's hip. He almost winced as he felt the signaling downward shift and then the painful slide to completeness. His face was pressed into Sephiroth's shoulder and a shudder wracked his body.

"Shh." Sephiroth rubbed his palm over Zack's cheek, wiping away the sweat. He kissed the salty skin and pulled away , causing another shudder. It seemed to pass through Zack's hands to Sephiroth. The General could feel his body shaking. He reached between them to drag his nails down Zack's arousal and forced himself back inside the younger man. Zack gripped the back of his neck and pulled down. His mouth massaged against Sephiroth's, conveying an age-old urgency and a still heady desire.

Sephiroth's movements gained momentum. He abruptly wrenched his hips, driving into Zack with enough force to cause him to scream into his mouth before Zack clamped it off with an act of willpower. Sephiroth continued to push them both relentlessly, until Zack flashed over the edge, and his violent shuddering taking Sephiroth with him. 

He came back to awares with Zack absently looping a strand of his long silver hair around his finger. The SOLDIER's breathing had already calmed. Sephiroth's own mind was completely cleared of the alcohol. He was entirely unmindful of the fact that something was seriously wrong with his younger lover. For the moment, Zack was strong and healthy. He shut his eyes peacefully. 

"I saw your kid." Zack's voice seemed unnatural in a silence filled with pulsing blood.

Amused, Sephiroth asked quietly, "What kid?"

"Strife. He was alone on the beach." Zack glanced at him when he tensed. "That kid really bothers you."

"_Something_ about him bothers me. I'm still trying to figure out what. Did he say anything?"

" He didn't say much at all; nothing about you. He seemed calm enough, but a little… resentful. Like he was tired of waking up in the same life."

"Ha. Doesn't everyone feel like that?" Sephiroth scrubbed his cheek along Zack's chest.

" I didn't." Zack responded. "I loved my life when I was his age."

"You loved getting to play with sharp objects. Your father almost killed me when you got your back slashed open."

He felt Zack shrug. "Nothing he could do about it. I was sixteen, legally old enough to prostitute myself if I chose."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. "Is there something you've failed to tell me?"

Zack's chest rumbled. "No," he responded, laughing. "I was just making my point. I was old enough to make my own decisions without my father's permission."

"All right, all right. Likely story," Sephiroth growled. He fell Zack teasingly move to shove him off. Sephiroth stubbornly clung tighter. "No." He touched his forehead to Zack's cheekbone.

"Okay… Seph, are you certain you have no idea why Cloud bothers you like he does?"

"There are plenty of opportunities in my past for him to be a part of the picture, but I can't place him anywhere." Sephiroth said in a self-loathing tone.

Zack sighed, difficult with Sephiroth on his chest. "Don't go there."

Sephiroth laughed bitterly. "Already did."

"The scotch?" 

"Score on the first count, SOLDIER."

Zack shook his head. He was vaguely aware of a silvery light slicing through the blinds. Moonlight. One of his favorite aspects of night. "You owe me a bottle of scotch now, and I don't mean the designer crap people are always giving you."

******

The tumblers to the record office locks slid open. The mako shield surrounding the office had been the only real challenge, and it was nothing Cloud couldn't handle. He lit a puff of materia to serve as a light and set it on his shoulder. The blonde moved silently to the file cabinet with the sorting numbers seven-seven and started shuffling through the hundreds of files stored within.

[living risky never scared, wander closer to the edge/ nothing valued think no fear, always wondering why you're here / all your purposed are gone, nothing's right an nothing's wrong / nothing ventured, nothing gained feel no sorrow, feel no pain]

[ kiss my while I'm still alive, kill me while I kiss the sky / let me die on my own terms, let me live and let me learn / now I'll follow my own way and I'll live on to another damn day / freedom carries sacrifice, remember when this was my life ]

--------------------------------

I have an affinity for blonds and beaches, thus the Cloud/Beach scene. I realize this took me longer than the other to get posted. This is because I was almost done, but I was struggling, so I knew it was _really_ bad. So I rewrote it-- completely. I also know it's a little boring, but it was the necessary detail chapter, to set up the rest of the story. I stuck the Zack x Seph scene in there to make it interesting. That's the worst it will ever get, so I'm not going to change the rating. It was also my first try at writing an explicit Yaoi encounter *sweatdrops *

This is the part where I blackmail your for more reviews. You know the drill: review, get more…I really shouldn't tell you that you all review too damn fast for me to keep up, but keep them coming. Since it's the weekend (where I live anyway) they'll have to be good and plentiful to get me to writing again before Monday.

Lyrics © 1999 3 Doors Down


	4. Unraveling

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: I only own this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: See bottom. Grammatical errors likely buried within- I will to work them out.

Jesavette, 4

------------------------

Sunlight streamed in. Zack was half propped up by the exorbitant pillows smushed against the headboard of the bed. He was crowded against Sephiroth under the sheets by mutual preference, splitting his attention between his casual inspection of his bandage and Sephiroth's muscled back. The General sighed in to his pillow and shifted. He was trying desperately to stay in that fragile medium between awake and asleep. In there, could sense Zack, feel him, feel _for_ him and nothing else. As soon as he left that wonderfully warm place, it would all cascade on him like a rockslide. Zack knew this, of course, and smiled at his stubborn little battle against wakefulness. He left Sephiroth to his mental grumbling and turned his attention back to his hand. The strips holding his flesh together were curling. He tugged them off entirely. A raw pink line traced across his palm where the sword had bitten down the day before. No bone damage thankfully, but the skin was still tender and red. The mild nerve blocker had worn off, leaving Zack with the buzzing sensation of damaged nerves. They would take longer to heal. 

Callused fingers slid over his palm. Sephiroth's incandescent hair swished across his bare chest. He kissed Zack. A smile pulled at the corner of Zack's mouth. "Hey."

"Good morning." Sephiroth stretched luxuriously and draped himself over Zack's chest, his chin pressing into Zack's ribs while his fingers played with the sensitive skin near his hip. Amused, Zack rolled his eyes. His skin flinched of its own accord when Sephiroth hit a tender spot. Zack propped his elbow on Sephiroth's back. The General gave Zack a dirty look from the corner of his eye. Zack opened his hand and gave back a look of innocence. "You want to act like a laptop desk, I'm going to treat you like one."

"You're quite free with your liberties Zack," Sephiroth said coolly.

"No holds barred off-duty, Lover."

"Now what Mako-baked idiot made that rule?"

"You did, I believe." Zack's smile had gone predatory.

"Hn. Remind me to reprimand myself. So," Sephiroth said conversationally as he pushed off, settling beside Zack on the pillows, "What are we doing today?"

"Calling in sick?" Zack said hopefully. 

Sephiroth raised one silvered brow. "I think not. What sparked this turn around, by the way? Three days ago you wouldn't have given me the time of day if I held a watch in front of you."

"Got tired of holding you at arm's length. Hell of a job." The lie passed easily through his lips. In truth, he didn't have enough time left to keep Sephiroth at a distance. He grinned recklessly. "More fun this way too."

"Glad you agree. Now try again, and this time be serious."

Zack sighed. "You have a meeting at eleven-- in an hour and a half, by the way-- and then you have to spearhead the investigation."

Sephiroth had long since quit trying to understand when and where Zack found the time to learn his schedule. It was just another constant provided by Zack. "They're launching the investigation already?" He was surprised.

"Don't understand it either. Someone in sciences is pushing it." 

"I'm beginning to hate them."

"Where have you been? Join the lynching party," Zack responded dryly. The hand that stroked Sephiroth's stomach skittered lower.

The bedside phone rang. Sephiroth's hand clamped on Zack's wrist. "Hold that," He ordered. Picking up the phone, he answered in his usual impassive tones. After several long minutes of listening interspersed with bouts of yessirs and subliminal flattery, Sephiroth set the phone down in the cradle. "I don't believe this."

Zack sighed. So much for a leisurely morning. "What now?"

'The regional governor is coming here. In fact, he'll be here in an hour. He wants to assemble everyone for an impromptu ceremony to honor the Kelby people."

Zack blinked. "Repeat and elaborate. He wants what? We can't scramble four hundred some odd troops-- not to mention the SOLDIERs and everyone else-- in full dress uniform in an hour. Maybe if we went buck-naked we could shave it off to seventy minutes. But an hour is not going to happen."

Sephiroth rolled from the bed. "Make it happen," He said sternly. "SOLDIERs first, then use them to round up the troops. Don't worry about official teams, form them up by barracks." Sephiroth smartly clasped his belt and snatched a shirt from a hangar. "Get moving Zack." He disappeared.

Frustrated, Zack kicked back the covers and reached for his own uniform. The SOLDIER's dress gear was a great deal less elaborate and more comfortable than either the Troopers or the higher brass. It was one thing to be thankful of. He really didn't want to do this, however. He physically didn't have the time.

*******

The horrible banging was Cloud's first indication that something was expected of him. A strong male voice bounced through the length of the barracks, something his mind couldn't translate. It simply registered as nonsense. As with all nonsense, Cloud ignored it. 

Zack came to stand by the bed of the trooper that had somehow managed to go back to sleep. He poked the stubborn hump under the covers. "Get up," He ordered. A hand wormed under the edge and latched onto the pressure point just above his knee. Zack barked a poisonous threat as his leg locked beneath him. The hand snaked back in, leaving him with lingering paralysis. "All right, kid," He growled. To the troops, "Open the shutters." Almost immediately, twelve blocks of intense light flooded the room. Troopers groaned. The kid under the sheets swore something in a mountain dialect that Zack knew just enough of. 

"Better pray your mother's skin doesn't flake off when you kiss her." He moved to the side of the bed and swiftly up ended the mattress with a powerful fling. The kid tumbled off, blankets and all, landing in a sheet-swathed bundle. Zack could still see nothing of the Trooper except a small head turning this way and that under the sheets. A loud and imaginative string of curses suddenly rose from the pile. Struggling minimally before he found the right fistful to free himself from the tent of bed clothing, the kid tossed it off and hissed when the sunlight hit his eyes. He squeezed them shut and massaged them as if he could reduce the pain from his flash-blinded retinas. When the cursing finally subsided and he opened his eyes, he was face to face with the SOLDIER from the beach. 

Zack grinned cheerfully. "Well now. Wasn't expecting you." Understatement royale. His first glimpse of the kid's features had set him back on his heels. Who would have expected the quiet, finely structured blond to have a mouth like that? 

"Flash copy that," Cloud said. He rubbed his head. He took in Zack's uniform and the others quickly getting dressed in theirs. He saw with much disgust that they were formal uniforms. "What do the asses on the high totem pole want now?" He asked irritably.

Zack stared at him for long moments with his brows raised. "I'm waiting for you to amend that into nicer terms." 

"Hope your schedule's got a blank spot, then," Cloud retorted. He should be showing more respects, but he was out late, he was tired, confused; he hated mornings and the rude awakening had just ruined his day, thanks a lot.

"That's very close to insubordination." Zack didn't expect his words to invoke much humility in the kid, but he wanted him paying attention. The kid seemed to have other ideas. He gathered up his sheets to dump them back on bed, muttering something about it wouldn't stick. Zack frowned. The kid hadn't seemed like one of the daddy's boy cases yesterday, but he was certainly acting like it now. Only Troopers with powerful fathers could strain the regs so blatantly. Then it occurred to Zack that Cloud might not be a morning person. Understandable. "Assembly. Get up, get dressed." He made a mental note to ask the kid later where he had learned a SOLDIER strike grip.

"Unbelievable," One trooper crowed after Zack had gone. "I knew he was cool, but that was off the tangent."

"Seriously," another added. "They don't get much cooler than Zack." He looked straight at Cloud. "He sounded like he knew you."

But Cloud was staring at him. "You said Zack?"

"Ye-ah. His name," the Trooper answered slowly.

"Zack or Zackary?" Cloud demanded.

"Both. Longer version spelled with a K."

( _Aww, shit. The name Zack is popping too many times to be a coincidence. The medical file, and now this one? But could they all really be the same man?)_

"You ok man?" The Trooper was looking at him strangely. 

Cloud shook it off. "Yeah, fine. Whatever. Full dress of just forms?"

"Full dress." The Trooper dubiously tossed him a shoulder harness and saber from their adjoining metal cabinet.

******

"He was in E barracks?"

"Yeah. Swear on Shinra, I've never heard anyone with that kind out mouth."

Sephiroth's sly smile incited a brief but vehement denial, "I never said anything like that!"

"Didn't have to. You had your own… statements."

"Never that bad."

"Beg to differ," Sephiroth retorted. "Need I remind you about the SOLDIER at your court marshal that actually _blushed_ when he repeated what you'd said to him?"

"Different circumstances."

"Circumstances don't change much between sixteen and seventeen, which I believe is the difference between young Cloud's age now and your age when you were hauled in for disrespecting an officer." Sephiroth awarded himself a point when a guilty look flashed across Zack's face. "How long do you intend to keep reminding me about the three of four stupidest things I've done and said since I was a kid?"

"Until you're dead and gone," Sephiroth remarked. 

Zack hoped his freeze on the word 'dead' wasn't noticeable and picked up a string of chatter that Sephiroth had come to expect from him in five years.

Sephiroth learned much from Zack's response and said nothing. _(Death has some significance, but it's not possible he's dying…?)_

Manipulating Zack by tossing out choreographed phrases went behind the rules of trust and common decency they had established but Sephiroth had no other way of obtaining the information he needed. 

"Silence," he admonished Zack quietly. "Here we go."

The two veered off. Zack stepped into his place at the head of his platoon and marched them behind the rows of ranking officers. The sound of boot heels thundered softly across the parade grounds, announcing their arrival. Zack crisply maneuvered his phalanx into place. The Regional Governor stepped up to the podium to speak to the hundreds of Troopers assembled; Sephiroth nodded surreptitiously to Zack. He moved only slightly, keeping his keen violet eyes roaming.

******

Cloud's eyes narrowed on Zack. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the signs of physical strain were easy to spot. He still didn't fully believe that Zack's unheard of condition was related to the discontinued project, but little else--very little else--could explain. He was so absorbed that he didn't notice his resident discomfort around Sephiroth. 

He studied Zack. The number ident tag matched so he was certain he _was_ the Zackary from the medical file. The search for details on the mission noted had yielded interesting information despite being largely disappointing. All files pertaining to that mission were classified. 

His attention was ripped back to the present when the Regional Governor announced that he had medals to award to 'heroes' of the Kelby encounter. He stiffened. Shinra almost always conducted background checks to avoid awarding medals to child molesters and the like. While Cloud's apprenticeship to Hojo had indirectly gotten him into the Shinra forces, he didn't want it announced. 

Sephiroth's pale eyes suddenly locked on Cloud. The youthful blonde stiffened imperceptibly and kept his eyes locked forward. He could feel Sephiroth's eyes combing his body, searching for something. The same whisper drifted up from the back of his mind. It swished past him and he reached for it-- he knew it held the answers-- but his conscious mind snatched him back. The whisper faded away. Cloud felt a growing frustration. _(Damn it to hell. There's something I should know here. Why can't I remember?)_

Cloud distracted himself by studying Zack. As he was noting the slight signs that could be a portent of things to come, he realized that the SOLDIER was out of place. He wasn't precisely out of formation, but he wasn't square with his platoon. The Alpha platoon had a reputation for being the best, for accomplishing the impossible. It made sense that Shinra would want its most visible elites in plain sight for the news reports… Cloud started. _(Duh. Idiot. They're aren't publicity, they're protection.)_

The Alphas formed an impenetrable screen both behind and to the sides of the dais, each SOLDIER turned outward to watch for possible threats. It explained Zack's off placement. He was acting as personal guard to someone. 

Cloud abruptly noticed that Sephiroth's gaze had changed. A few words spoken under his breath and a materia spell was cast. An orange haze settled on Cloud's vision, the auras of living sentients visible to him. He willed his concentration to cut through the empathic glare and stared directly at Sephiroth. The General's rich yellow aura snaked out, reaching for the intense magenta glow marking Zack. Flashes of white crackled where their auras touched. 

__

Lovers

Bolts of distressed gray marred the General's rich yellow glow. Cloud wondered if the he was always so uneasy. In any case, something had his emotions in a riot. His aura again reached for Zack and the shivering of color quieted when they made contact. Unlike Sephiroth's aura, which pulsed and flickered in response to emotional distress, Zack's aura was a strong glow of color, rippling almost contentedly. Only a slight graying around the edges indicated something was not right. Auras generally responded to the emotional and mental rather than the physical. His deteriorating condition had yet to disturb his emotional stare of being. His state of mind was firm while Sephiroth was silently falling apart.

Cloud was reaching the limits in which could safely maintain the spell. He blinked, shaking his head slightly and the orange glow dropped away. He considered the physical appearance of Sephiroth and Zack with a new thoughtfulness.

"Cloud Strife!"

Disoriented by his name, it took him several moments to realize that the Governor was smiling and waiting for him. Cloud stepped out and marched to the dais. The Governor made him stand close while he hailed Cloud as a hero and a young man with a bright future. After the last of his words rang away through the crowd, he launched into another speech to present Cloud with the Silver Corona for bravery in action. He bowed, made nice with the crowd, then deferred to Sephiroth. The General palmed the medal from him and stepped close to pin it on. In the space of two seconds he had the Corona attached firmly to the front of Cloud's freshly issued uniform while adding his own sparse words of congratulation. 

Cloud didn't hear. He was staring numbly at the rope-like scar that angled down the General's neck. The low dress collar only exposed some of it but Cloud could plot the direction that it skewed to. A hailstorm of information and resistance raged in his mind, leaving him deaf to everything except the blood rushing through his veins. That scar meant _something_ _to him_. The back of his skull pounded painfully. Too many things were battling inside his brain. One clear message stood out in crimson strokes.

__

Get away from Sephiroth NOW.

Not possible without raising suspicion. Cloud swallowed and forcefully slammed down shutters in his mind, banishing everything away to dark corners where he may or may not deal with it later.

Coolly Sephiroth stepped away and the next cadet was called up. Cloud had to marshal every scrap of self-control he had to make it through the ceremony without fleeing. 

Sephiroth's eyes flickered. Beneath the calm, a new horror was dawning.

*******

Once away from the sight of others, Sephiroth's composure collapsed. In concern Zack hustled him back to the house, called in an excuse for him and quickly stripped out of his uniform. When he came back downstairs wearing a grey shirt and a worn pair of synthetic pants, he found Sephiroth badly shaken and attempting to pour himself a drink. The neck of the glass bottle rattled against the tumbler's rim. Wordlessly, Zack took the bottle from his hand and switched the tumbler for a larger glass. He poured the scotch and added whiskey and another strong liquor and then wrung a lemon slice in it to cover the conflicting flavors. In Sephiroth's plain sight he mixed in two of his prescription sedatives. Under normal circumstances the mixture would likely cause a coma. In enhanced SOLDIERs, it was just enough to make them sleepy. Sephiroth didn't object when Zack handed him the powerful drink.

Sephiroth sank down on the couch. Zack circled behind him and massaged his shoulder in a gesture of support while the General sipped the concoction. He jerked as it took hold of his tastebuds. "What do you call this?" He inquired emotionlessly. 

"Blue lizard," Zack answered. He leaned into the massage, waiting patiently until Sephiroth was ready to say something.

Sephiroth swallowed another gulp of the liquor. He took a lightspeed tour of his memories with Zack over the past five years. He never would have believed he would stay with one person for so long, but Zack wasn't merely his lover. Zack was first his friend and his partner and his bodyguard, though the latter was not common knowledge. In fact, only a handful of people knew that Sephiroth had dismissed his entire guard flank and quietly moved Zack into the position five years ago. Even at seventeen, Zack was stronger and more fierce than most. Combined with his personal interest in Sephiroth's well being, he made the perfect protector. It was one of the days that stood out in Sephiroth's mind. Another day stood out more clearly then all, cast in a feral glow. Old emotions long since shoved away radiated from it like a broken container of a deadly substance and mixed with his new disbelief and self-loathing. 

"Zack, I…" He trailed off. How could he explain to Zack? He didn't want to remember it, much less say it out loud. 

Zack lovingly nuzzled his neck and loosely crossed his arms over Sephiroth's chest. He didn't speak, allowing Sephiroth to gather himself.

Sephiroth almost choked. No one else would be this patient with him. Or knew him this well. He understood that he could be very close to losing the one thing precious to him and it frightened him deeply. Combined with his new horror, he felt his life spinning out of control while he helplessly drowned. 

"Zack…I remembered who Cloud is."

Zack's breath puffed in surprise. He quickly recovered. "Why does that upset you so much?" 

"Because of what I did to him. I murdered his father in front of him." 

Zack stiffened then moaned a vocalization of Sephiroth's storming emotions that were holding him silent. He hopped over the edge of the couch and held Sephiroth closely.

Then General did the unthinkable. He wept.

*******

The sudden horrible realization of who Sephiroth might be jangled Cloud's nerves of steel so badly that skipped his afternoon duties. When night fell he slipped back into the cut off pants he still had and sleeveless black shirt. After lacing his boots he palmed his ident tags and wrapped the chain around his wrist so they wouldn't make any noise. In the humid night outside the barracks, he struck out for the beach.

*******

Hojo slammed his skinny fist down on his worktable, making a pencil jump. Fuck. Sephiroth and Cloud had recognized one another. This was precisely what he had been trying to avoid for ten years. When he'd sent the brat to the testing facility to apply for entrance into Trooper, he'd congratulated himself. It actually lowered the chances of Cloud finding Sephiroth. Because of his intelligence and that curious lack of fear, there was no way to keep Kelo's under aged prodigy out of anything for long, so his personal files weren't safe. He sent Cloud in as an inactive operative. Hojo of course had other sleepers in the Shinra military, but Cloud was in a class by himself. 

Good indeed, but also dangerous. With his intelligence and training, Cloud would be a costly loss but Sephiroth was more important. Hojo had to act quickly to keep the boy in hand. He had a perfect plan. 

Zack had to be dealt with. He'd only allowed the alliance between his creation and that third class SOLDIER because Sephiroth needed protection. Zackary had filled that need satisfactorily, but now he sensed that his creation was too dependant on the SOLDIER. Better to cut them off now. 

Zack would be a difficult kill, but nothing Cloud couldn't handle. After all, his father had provided his initial training, and to date there wasn't a better SOLDIER than Kelo Strife.

*******

Cloud dropped the syringe to the sand and hung his head while he waited for the Lidocaine to kick in. On his way out he had taken a couple drugs and pack of syringes from the medical ward. His glands were dumping too much adrenaline into his system, causing his heart to beat too fast and irregularly.

__

( Have to slow it down before I throw clot or overload something.)

He'd injected himself with mako-based agent specifically designed to calm SOLDIERs in battle rage. The second injection was Lidocaine to steady his heartbeat. The last was a depressant to keep him in check once everything took hold.

The drugs slowed him down. The shattered mental blocks were now useless against the flood of memories that assaulted him. 

__

Cloud squealed as his father tickled him. He hopped of the workbench, landing lightly and perfectly balanced on the floor and took off running. His father chased him around the room. As usual, they were alone. His father tricked him and Cloud ran straight into his arms. He laughed harder, losing his breath as he father tickled him mercilessly. When he was finally let go he collapsed on the floor. His cheeks were flushed and he wheezed… but his gin split his face in two. He father promised no more horseplay and they settled back down to work. It was a new project. His father hadn't liked the old one after they got into it. Even Cloud realized the danger if they actually made it work. So he didn't complain. This new one was more fun, anyway.

…The men burst into the lab. The SOLDIER-trained Kelo shoved Cloud off the other side of the table and turned to face the intruders. His eyes widened. They were SOLDIERs. The leader sauntered up, a smile on his face. "Hello Doctor. It's been awhile."

He ordered Kelo killed. A silver haired SOLDIER responded with inhuman speed. He slashed at Kelo. Kelo matched him for speed, rolling out of the way, but the silver haired man responded even quicker, delivering a vicious snap kick to his back in mid roll. Kelo crashing into the legs of a lab chair. From his hidden spot behind the counter Cloud was staring at him with fear in his large blue eyes. Kelo's lips tightened. If they found Cloud now, they would kill him too. He rocked back on his shoulders and snapped his body to fling himself back to his feet. The SOLDIER swung again with a deadly blade. Kelo spun, taking the lethal slice across his bicep. He kicked out, catching the SOLDIER's sword hand with his foot-- he was wearing heavy steel tread combat boots, not loafers like expected. The sword jumped from his hand. Kelo snatched it in mid air and backed away, drawing their attention away from the corner where his son was hiding. If nothing else he had to live long enough to get Cloud away. He easily held the massive blade, brandishing it in a manner that made it obvious he knew exactly what to do with it. The silver SOLDIER's eerie pale eyes flashed and he rushed. He moved too fast for Kelo to block. He rose up and buried a wicked looking knife in Kelo's chest. The impact forced his breath away. He coughed blood and dragged in a painful breath. He'd managed to shift at the last instant, taking the knife to the center of his chest, rather than allow the SOLDIER to slip it between his ribs and into his lung where he couldn't speak. The SOLDIER backed away. 

Cloud had witnessed the whole scene.

Kelo's leg buckled. With a breath near his last he called to his son in his mother's language.

( I love you. Slap the alarm and the window lock release and run Cloud, now!!)

There was nothing more he could do to help his son. 

Cloud sprang out from behind the counter. He slapped the control panel, locking them in.

__

The boy glanced at his father's crumpled form and then to the SOLDIER staring at him in surprise. His deep blue darkened and swirled with a mounting rage. Snatching up a scalpel form the worktable he hurled it and then dove for the far wall and the decorative sword displayed there. He knew the blade was real and sharp. He triggered the release and half crouched on top of the workbench he'd leapt on to reach it. The gem-studded sheath was ridiculously opulent, but the blade it protected was handcrafted and elegant. Light flashed up the blade. He held it in a sure grip, his battle stance natural. He was only six, but he was a very dangerous six. 

He lunged suddenly, moving even faster than his father did. It was a natural gift that ran in the Strife genes and enhanced by mako. He took the SOLDIER by surprise. The silver haired man-- a demon in Cloud's eyes-- didn't get his recovered blade back up in time to fully deflect the slash. Cloud's blade sank deep into his throat and skewed up at an angle. The SOLDIER spun away, holding his neck. Cloud turned from him and attacked the other three. The two other SOLDIERs received a merciful death by a swift decapitating stroke. He slashed the Captain's chest open, exposing glistening bone and raw wet muscle tissue. Cloud angled his body almost parallel to the floor and kicked him backward into the wall. Cloud spun and thrust the sword straight through him, pinning him to the wall in his death throes.

Still shaking with an overload of rage and adrenaline Cloud threw himself at his father. He tried to tug the knife out but backward facing teeth in the blade held it firm. Tears began to run down his face as he frantically packed his father's lab coat around the wound. Kelo weakly stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He hissed out several words in the native tongue of Cloud's mother, a language Cloud spoke fluently, then switched back to their normal language.

"I'm proud of you…I love you, my little one."

Kelo squeezed his son's shoulder. He didn't move or speak to Cloud again.

When security finally arrived they found three dead SOLDIERs and the fatally injured Sephiroth. Cloud sat on his knees beside his father's body, silent and blank. He didn't respond to his name or touch. It was three days before Cloud broke out of his unresponsive haze and only to squeeze his mother's hand as his father was lowered into the ground. 

Cloud never again spoke as much as he used to. The cheerful child had become silent in the wake of his violence. At eight he was forced to kill again to protect his mother. He did so mechanically with no expression on his face. At nine he was apprenticed to Hojo. 

Innocence was destroyed. One little life forever altered, a gentle soul damaged beyond repair. The beautiful child grew into an exquisite creature somewhere between child and adult and carried the pain of maturity beyond his years.

Not matter what it cost him; he would find his father's killer.

There would be no mercy for anything in his way.

-------------------

Author's notes: Keep your hands and arms inside the car while the ride is in motion. * Car shoots straight down into a pitch-black tunnel. * Insert evil laugh of choice here.

Seriously, I want to thank everyone who reviewed. Blackmail, must review to get more, yadda yadda. I'm not starting part five until I have 16 new reviews. I apologize for the extremely long amount of time it took me to get this up. I have a really good excuse, I do. Honestly. I had writer's block, then I had no power for a day or so, and then I came down with the flu and I was too busy being sick to care much about little Cloud and his predicament. After that, Fanfiction.net was upgrading or what have you.

*Cookie Monster sitting in chair in elegant robe. * Please join us next time for Monsterpiece theater. *Chows down on cookie. *

This program was brought to you by the letter H.

Ahem. Pardon my weirdness, but they gave me painkillers at the emergency room…


	5. Pieces from different puzzles

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: I own this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: See bottom- grammatical errors within, they will be repaired over time.

Jesavette, 5

-----------------------

It was a nightmare ride, long, horrifying and never ending. The story was laid out for Zack by late afternoon, easing a partial burden of his guilt, but the memories continued to assault during the night, and by morning there was still no mercy in sight. He was completely helpless against the onslaught of his mind.

__

The strength concealed in the striking blue eyes as they sized him up…

Completely missing with his first swing, barely landing a defensive spinal blow to buy him the time needed to back away…

Trying to regain the composure lost over the unexpected resistance. This man moved like he had training…

Using another guaranteed technique that failed-- only some blood from his arm…

The sudden deadness and screaming pain in his arm as his sword was kicked from hand; looking up and facing down the length of his own blade…

The bloody satisfaction of victory; The gristly sound as the knife plunged through bone and muscle; the bright red blood that streamed from his mouth…

Confusion as the man still lived and called in a language he didn't understand…

Astonishment as a young child tumbled out from hiding; the very same unnatural blue eyes burning in fury…

Ultimate shock as the boy streaked forward with inhuman speed…

The blinding stab of pain and the horrible realization that his lifeblood was pouring out at the hands of a mere child…

The same strange language again; the wrenching words of a father to his son and the terrible feral scream that escaped the child…

The dead silence…

…Kelo Strife's son. He should have seen the resemblance immediately. The name Strife was not common, nor was the gleaming blond hair and blue eyes that he had passed to his son.

He shut his eyes. The feeling of internal collapse was becoming familiar, a sister effect to the overwhelming weight of his emotions. He now understood clearly why Zack forever nagged him about bottling up emotions-- they could simply crush you. He pressed his cheek to the mattress, the defined muscles of his back and shoulders flinching periodically as the only outward sign of his internal conflict. 

Zack…he was moving around behind him. As far as he knew, Zack had not slept the night before and was now reporting for duty in his place. It was vastly unfair for him to face two days worth of work alone; there would be decisions on the snap, adjustments to the duty roster and damage control over Sephiroth's absence. But as Sephiroth's second in command and his lover, everything fell to him. 

The mattress sank under Zack's weight. He sprawled over the bed between them and gently combed his fingers through the cascade of hair from crown to ends. He sank into a methodic rhythm, sliding silvered sections through his finger and smoothing them aside. 

The sensation was soothing. Sephiroth mentally reached for the core strength that emanated from Zack and caught the displeasure and concern. Zack was questioning what would happen next. Sephiroth thought he could answer at least part of that. 

"He recognized me, Zackary."

Zack paused. "What made you think he wouldn't?"

"I was hoping he was too young…" his tone was disturbingly flat for all of the surging emotions inside and he didn't react to the sudden tension on his scalp when Zack's fist clenched. 

"Don't lie to yourself, Sephiroth," Zack warned in a low tone. "And _especially_ not to me. He was old enough. You wanted to ignore it and hope it would go away."

Sephiroth's lips thinned. "That's a crime?"

Zack willed himself to relax. Silvered hair slipped from his uncurled fingers. "No. But there are two things wrong with it, Seph. You want to bury it, not resolve it. Secondly, no matter how you twist it, _Cloud_ will remember." He gathered up Sephiroth's hair in one hand and laid it aside. His fingertips brushed down Sephiroth's naked back, tracing scars and plains of muscle. 

"I can't change that." Sephiroth rolled, catching Zack's arm beneath him. "There's very little I can do except perhaps sit nicely while he carves my heart out."

Zack freed his arm and passed his hand over Sephiroth's flesh, reaching up to squeeze his neck tenderly. "Which brings us to our next problem, lover. There is one very messed up kid out there-- capable of quite of bit. He may decide to come after you."

"May?" Sephiroth echoed. "Aside from killing him, I don't see anyway to prevent that."

"Because _you_ can't, Sephiroth. Cloud's reaction is entirely up to him." Zack gave his neck a final squeeze and rose. It occurred to Sephiroth that Cloud might heed the Golden Rule of revenge: _Hurt the ones they love. _He snagged Zack's wrist with an inscrutable expression. 

"Stay here. Let Shinra take care of itself."

Zack gently pried his fingers loose. "When was the last time Shinra did that? It can't. It can be one of us or both of us, Seph. It can't be neither of us." He pressed his lips to Sephiroth's briefly. "Get some actual rest. Cloud hasn't been seen and the house is surrounded, so you're relatively secure for the time being."

"Are you certain of that?" 

"Seph," Zack said seriously, "If he can get through an entire phalanx of SOLDIERs, we're fucked. Up, down and sideways. It's not going to matter if we stick you in a box and bury you."

Sephiroth looked away and didn't see the flicker in Zack's eyes. "If you need me to come in, I can. I'm not an invalid."

Zack snorted. "You just had an emotional breakdown. Forget it. Stay here. I'll be late." He stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. 

"Do not try anything stupid, Zack."

Zack scowled "Like what?"

Sephiroth frowned, the exhaustion in his face temporarily hardening. "Like searching for Cloud on your own. If he wants me bad enough, he may see you as a swift route in."

Evident on Zack's face was his displeasure. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Sephiroth's brow jumped. The slight remission in his touchy attitude was apparently over. "It was nothing against you Zack."

__

Never is. " See you later tonight."

******* 

There is one constant in the human side of a military base: The grapevine. The goal: to pipeline information, true or not.

Reno was kicked back, his booted feet crossed and planted on the bench to make it clear he wanted no company. He was cut loose for the afternoon because he was supposed to go over the details of the initial attack with Sephiroth and a strategic crew, but Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. At least that much he knew to be true. The rest of the stuff flying around, rumors of everything from conspiracy to an affair, were unconfirmed and therefore not worth his time. 

The jaded red-head treated a glowering trooper to a disturbing smile before turning away disinterestedly. In a place where real entertainment was rare, yesterday had been the main event. The ceremony was a bunch of yawning political bullshit as far as he was concerned, and he was almost cross-eyed with boredom when he saw the real intrigue. In his experience, humans in general were weird, unpredictable creatures and trying to make sense of everything they did was a futile effort. Even so, Sephiroth's reaction to Cloud and vice versa sat outside the realm justified by personal quirks. He was not going to get involved just to satisfy a personal curiosity, however. His personal policy was not to invade other people's privacy and was about to dismiss the incident all together.

"Turk!"

__

(Hello? Did we forget our manners?) 

"I said, you, Turk!"

Coolly Reno's gaze ticked to the burly officers standing over him. "I have a name. Ohh, look. It's even right on my shirt." Reno plucked at his breast pocket where the nametape could be seen. 

The officer glared. "Save it. You've been ordered to help us find Trooper Class B Cloud Strife."

"Can you say your alphabet too?" Reno mocked. With a heavy thunk his boots landed on the dirt and he snatched the slip of paper from the outstretched hand. Yup. Written clear as day, in red ink too. Reno held the paper between two fingers with an eyebrow arched. "Is there a particular reason?"

"He's AWOL."

Reno stood up. The height difference might have been intimidating to someone else. He just thought of it as an advantage that put him closer to sensitive areas. "If I find him, what am I supposed to do with him?" 

Looking brain-dead, the officer replied, "Bring him to the med ward."

(_Med ward? Last time I checked you didn't take derelict troopers to the doctor.) _"Whatever." 

"This is top priority. Locate Trooper Strife immediately. Do not speak of your search to anyone."

Reno stared at them evenly as they backed away, the glanced down at the slip of paper. Why in the hell did they need to find Cloud Strife right _now_, and be so damned sneaky about it? He dismissed them as questions he wouldn't have an answer to. Using years of quick-action skills, Reno broke down his search and assembled a list of places to check. Duty, food, barracks. 

The uniformed woman at the rotations office was a hard ass the likes of which he couldn't charm so he waited until her back was turned to snag Cloud's file. He was marked down for the cancelled interrogations today, and listed for a past-trauma examination later that evening… basic stuff. They wanted make sure he hadn't been fried mentally, but it didn't help him find Cloud _right now_. Reno pulled another slight of hand to return the file and jogged away from the office. His watch was reading almost noon so he chose the mess hall as his next stop. Cloud had to eat like every other adolescent boy, unless he was skipping meals too. Reno couldn't imagine NOT eating given the opportunity, but that was just left over from his childhood. 

He was deceptively casual on his walk to the mess hall. Years of hard living had left him permanently over cautious, and therefore adept at hiding. His most used tool was his carelessness. He learned quickly that by acting as if he didn't give a damn one way or the other, people tended to overlook him or relax a bit more. The negligently cheerful expression he wore constantly was a finely-tuned mask that he'd forgotten how to take off. It didn't matter to him really. The young boy that couldn't have fathomed his life thus far had died a while back; Reno had ownership of his body now.

The mess hall was crowded; a sharp sound occasionally pierced the roar of voices. Reno pressed himself to the wall and bounced up on the balls of his feet. Cloud was easily distinguishable and he decided in moments the boy wasn't there. He waited until someone of lesser rank scooted past and snagged him by the arm. "Name and Barracks," He demanded.

"Um. Ully Polov, D barracks," the kid replied uncertainly. 

"Ok. You know Cloud Strife? Have you seen him?"

"Yeah I know him. Word is he wasn't in barracks last night."

Reno frowned. "Word is, or you know this for sure?"

"Not for sure, but I have a friend in E barracks, and he said-"

"Yeah, good enough," Reno interrupted. "If you see him, tell him to go straight to the med ward." 

Bust. So Cloud hadn't eaten or slept in his bunk. Counting the yesterday afternoon, it was fifteen hours the kid was unaccounted for. How did anyone let the central figure of a giant investigation just disappear? 

Reno headed for the rec room. It was dark and stiflingly hot from the dozens of cigarettes and large bodies; just the kind of place he was used to. He was given caustic glances on the way in, but a narrow glimpse behind his outward mask proved he was within his rights. Predators recognized and avoided predators--it was professional courtesy. Reno's sharp gaze swept the room, lighting on card games, pools games, avid drinkers and smokers. He saw a small figure hunched down in a corner. A hand rolled cigarette was pinched between his chapped lips, the smoke discolored and faintly sweet. It wasn't Cloud, but it gave Reno an idea. 

Reno was many things, but never a hypocrite. Upstanding character was no preventive for wishing to be someplace else, and getting hooked on the means to do it. The desire to escape on a chosen high was something Reno knew well…was a lover of sorts with. With his medical clearance, Cloud had access to anything he wished. Reno thought wistfully that he could probably synthesize something truly spectacular…maybe something with the kick glow provided.

(_Get off it, you sick bastard! You're hunting the kid down on orders, not so he can whip you up a new drug to kill yourself with.)_

The med ward was clean and opened to the midday sunshine. The nurse at the front desk was bored and pretty. Reno flirted with her, unable to feel badly about using her. Use and be used; it was a matter of survival. He looked curiously down the hall when a door slammed. A doctor strode across the sterile tile, deeply disturbed. "Judy!"

The nurse jumped, almost guilty, and ran a hand self-consciously down her dress as if it had rumpled while talking to Reno. "Sir?"

The doctor set a chart down with more force than necessary. "Call security and report a break in, then get maintenance down here to change the locks on the drug locker."

The pretty nurse's glossed lips pursed. "Another one? Did they get anything dangerous?"

The doctor's head shook. "I cannot tell. The perpetrator was very clever- he switched packages and products around, reversing labels as well. I can't tell what we have. He was conscientious though," The doctor added ruefully. "He left a selection of drugs alone in case we had an emergency."

"Well that was nice of him," the nurse said doubtfully. "Do you know when this happened?"

An eloquent shrug. "Sometime last night."

(_Cloud disappears at the same time someone fools around with the base's drug supply. Screwing with the labels. Ingenuity. Cloud's particular brand of operation_.)

The nurse smiled at him. "Maybe some other time?"

"Sure. See you around."

Reno left with his hands in his pockets. He wondered where to go to next. It was becoming apparent that Cloud crawled into a hole and doped himself up...

__

(But there were a hundred places a stoned kid could go unnoticed.) 

A scowl creased his face. A thousand people on a military base, and he was supposed to find one lone kid? No. Reno swerved to SOLDIER's gym. His multi passage status as a Turk gained him access. Inside was a spread of equipment surrounding a large sparring floor. Two muscled SOLDIERs danced gracefully around one another in the midst of a crowd.

Reno's gaze landed a tall SOLDIER draped alluringly over the ropes. Zackary, SOLDIER and second to Sephiroth. Reno cut through the crowd--surprisingly pushy for his size-- and tapped Zack's shoulder. Zack turned, recognized him after a moment and listened as Reno spoke directly in his ear. His gaze drifted thoughtfully for a moment before he said something in return. Reno pushed his way back through the crowd and left through a side door.

For long moments Zack's gaze remained diverted, his violet eyes and attractive face unreadable.

*******

The salty air pushed his hair around and stung his eyes. That he even cared about the stinging under his lids told him that the cocktail was wearing off. His gamble had bought him what he needed; time to think without the encompassing rage that gripped him at the ceremony. The altering effects of the drug were easier to think around than the black hatred constricting around his mind. He'd taken the risk out of necessity. He hadn't stayed alive in Hojo's world--and under his tutelage-- running with his emotions. Seeing the whole picture required calm and focus. Both had been sparse the previous afternoon and night, but the little he'd scraped together was enough. he'd been able to sort the pieces logically.

Sephiroth was the SOLDIER responsible for his father's murder. Sephiroth was also Hojo's pet project. The spooky little scientist was absolutely fanatic about Sephiroth. He kept detailed files on him right down to the length of his hair, but he had no physical pictures of him. Cloud had always thought that was odd, and now he knew why.

Zack was the SOLDIER from the beach, the same SOLDIER with the unidentifiable condition, _AND_ was also Sephiroth's lover and likely his bodyguard. 

He wanted Sephiroth dead, but killing him could have significant consequences. He wanted to help Zack, but helping him would be akin to helping Sephiroth. But keeping silent about his suspicions could have an even more devastating effect on Shinra than the loss of Sephiroth

In the end concluded three things-- He needed to know more about Zack's condition. Secondly, he had to find out if someone _was_ using his father's research…And lastly, he couldn't have possibly repressed his memories so successfully by himself.

Very simply, he knew Hojo was involved somehow. Once he was able, he'd make a beeline for his former professor, and wring some solid, straightforward answers out of the evasive prick.

He was all right for the time being. He hadn't done anything yet, and it was unlikely that Sephiroth would bring the MP's down on him out of fear. It was possible Zack would seek him out, but Cloud doubted if he would intend harm. From what he'd been able to gather on Zack, he was cool and level-headed, using his position and his skills at reading people to avoid conflict. Cloud could only hope all of that wouldn't go out the window because it was Sephiroth in question. 

( _Degree of silent contact between them and level of synchronicity suggest that they've been intimate, or at least close, for some time. Sephiroth's obviously concerned about Zack, but I don't get the sense he's been made fully aware of the situation. His aura was messed up, yeah, but not badly. He's either got some incredible control, or he has absolutely no idea that Zack's got less than a month left. Could never tell it by looking at him, but the pathologist's report said that the destruction rate of attacked tissue was sixty percent, which leaves Zack only forty percent living tissue_.) 

Cloud's eyes narrowed and he methodically popped his knuckles. (_Forty percent isn't enough for a SOLDIER of Zack's size. But the extent of the damage keeps bothering me. If this has been going on only since the 77645 mission-- that's less than three weeks. If it is that goddamned project revived, than someone's revved up the amp time.) _

His mood darkened with the multi hue of his eyes. The project had been dropped for very specific reasons. Cloud had many strong, deeply ingrained lessons from his father, and ethics was one of them. Cloud wasn't a saint, either. He knew how brutal the world was, the real world where luxuries didn't exist and survival was an on-going battle. He also knew first hand what coupling desperation with a motivator could accomplish. In this case, the combination of a lack of conscience and the reward of money or rank could be the slow, painful death of millions.

(_But getting their hands on the necessary files. How? Dad had the only copies of the recorded research, and I know for a fact that none of the bastards involved took them. I killed them all before they could get close to file safe. And how the fuck did Sephiroth survive anyway? Hojo's help, no doubt.)_

Cloud suddenly wondered if the entire apprenticeship to Hojo was directly related to Sephiroth. It would certainly explain a lot of things. 

He was so far gone in his black musings that it took a firm nudge in the small of his back to bring him out. His head snapped up so fast Reno thought he heard Cloud's neck crack. "Take it easy," he said mildly.

Cloud's gaze was dull and flat, like he was having trouble processing Reno's presence. The Turk shifted uncomfortably and finally snapped his fingers in front of Cloud's face. "Shinra to Trooper Cloud Strife."

Cloud frowned as if Reno's finger snapping were bothersome. "Yeah?"

"Making sure you were all there." Reno stuck his hands in his pockets and stared up at the seagulls swooping over head. "You're not easy to find, you know." 

"That was the idea," Cloud replied sullenly. Surreptitiously he scanned Reno for weapons, and quickly decided the knife at the small of his back was the extent of his armament. 

"Yeah, so it was, but…sitting on a beach in plain sight? Not where I would have guessed, but certainly not hiding." He looked down at the younger boy's profile. The kid's jaw was set in a tight line and his unusual eyes were deep pools of glittering sky blue and menacing indigo. The colors didn't mix. They swirled almost placidly around one another but there was an ominous undercurrent, like the ocean in the silence before the storm.

Cloud pulled his legs up and folded his arms over his bent knees, jamming the palm of his hand against his elbow to hide the track marks. Shaking with anger and out of his right mind the evening before, he'd tracked up veins before finally getting it right. The syringes he'd buried in the sand. "I don't have a reason to hide. I haven't done anything yet."

"Except go AWOL," Reno pointed out mildly. "Which is why I'm here. I'm supposed to haul your ass in."

Cloud made a choking sound that might have passed for a bitter laugh some other time. "I'm sure. Wonder what the punishment is for being a derelict?" 

"Dunno, but I don't think it involves the med ward."

Cloud's body stiffened and his gaze flicked to Reno. "Med ward?"

His interest was interesting to Reno. "Med ward," he confirmed. "That's where I'm supposed to take you."

"Do you know why?"

"You'd have to ask Tweedle Dee and his brother Dum." Quickly Reno added, "That's just what I was told. Maybe they're going to make you recite the Shinra code of honor while the doc gives you your post trauma evaluation."

Cloud abruptly rose. Reno was startled to see that they were nearly nose to nose. The kid had seemed smaller at Kelby. "What did you mean about the Tweedle brothers?" he asked intently.

"Um. It was a figure of speech. I was referring to the two apes that issued my orders."

"Were they redheads, brown eyed, and as emotionally sharp as the blunt end of a hammer?"

"Big as a house, too," Reno added.

Cloud gathered himself quickly. "I have to go. Reno, you didn't find me."

"Whoa, wait!" Reno protested. "I have orders. I'm just supposed to ignore them?"

The kid's face was suddenly centimeters from his. "Have I ever done anything to you?"

"Haven't done anything for me."

"Then tell them you found me and I took off."

"Tell who, kid? I don't even know who I'm reporting to!"

Cloud jogged a few shaky steps. "Then you can't be accused of ignoring orders…look. You'll have to trust me here, but I'm certain that you won't be called for not reporting me. But there's one more thing, and this is important Reno," he said seriously. "How did you find me?"

"Zack suggested I look out here. I went to him, since he's involved with Sephiroth, who's with you in this thing, or whatever you guys have going on, and since he's acting chief…"

Cloud cut him off. "That's fine." The kid turned and started running, his balance improving with every step.

"What in the fucking hell is going on!?!" Reno yelled after him.

*******

Hojo was humming to himself. It was a stupid little song, one that was hated by general consensus, but he liked it. 

He stopped whistling when he came to the door of his lab. It was unlocked and hanging open an inch. He backed away and called for his guards. When they arrived moments later and crashed through the door, it was all in order--

--except for the teenaged boy perched on his workbench. "Cloud." He waved away the guards.

The blue eyes that fixed on him were like iron of ethereal blue. The boy didn't move or speak, just folded his arms and stared at him coolly. It set Hojo's teeth on edge. 

Cloud waited until Hojo's volatile nature was about to erupt and smiled. "Hey, Professor," he said conversationally. His tone threw Hojo off, who looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. Cloud hopped off. He ambled past Hojo to a project laid out. Knowing his mentor hated nothing more than to be corrected, he said, "You'll never solve it using that equation."

"You're being insolent. Why are you here, Cloud?"

Cloud spun around. "Why did you sic your dogs on me?"

"Boris and Kuskov? Because I was worried, my little protégé. Who knows what your little drug mixing did your system?"

Narrowing his eyes, Cloud said, "So you sent them to drag me to the infirmary? You know full well if they tested me for substances I would have come back positive. Why would you take the risk of having me watched closely?"

"Because substance abuse is punishable offense, Cloud," Hojo purred. The boy was simply out of control, but Hojo couldn't contain his delight for him. He was pure genius, so young and pliable. "As acting chief, SOLDIER Zackary would have had to respond to it immediately."

Cloud's brow arched. "I'm not following."

"It would have given you the opportunity to observe him, my young pupil. Because you're going to have to kill him."

For only the third time in their years together, Hojo had the pleasure of seeing Cloud shocked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Cloud. Zackary is interfering with my plans. He must go."

"Because he's Sephiroth's lover? You don't want your project having a weakness?"

Hojo frowned. Cloud was always perceptive. His reasoning was rather obvious, actually, but he still hated being over-guessed. "That's right. Sephiroth is a wonder of genetic sciences, my labor child. I allowed this unhealthy relationship because he was unhappy and the boy could make him smile." Sephiroth looked almost dreamy. Cloud suppressed a disgusted shudder. "I had no idea that when he took that underage brat to his bed that is would last four years and still be going strong."

Cloud was mentally surprised. He guessed that Zack and Sephiroth had been together awhile, but four years? That was a long time to be a sexual companion. He amended that after a minute; the attraction and emotion between them was strong, but he'd seen them interact from a distance a few times. They seemed to be best friends as much as lovers. Cloud himself had never gotten attached in any of his sexual liaisons. He'd only had three, each lasting less than a month--mostly his fault. He hadn't recovered form his father's death the way he should have and had serious issues concerning commitment. 

"So why didn't you just stop it a long time ago? A year should have been sufficient for you to see it was going to be a while." 

Hojo frowned at the only person to be aware of his true nature and still self-possessed enough to talk back. "I was entangled in another project--one almost as important."

"Me." Cloud's eyes hardened. "My talent had nothing to do with your offer to teach, me did it? You wanted me close so if I ever started to suspect who Sephiroth was, you could deal with me swiftly."

"You're right about the latter. But you do have quite a bit of talent, Cloud. I was ecstatic when you agreed to become my pupil." Hojo's tone was almost maternal. His rapid switches between moods were something Cloud had gotten used to long ago. But he wasn't finished with Hojo yet. "When I recognized Sephiroth, I thought I was going to be sick. The memories gave me a migraine. I couldn't have suppressed all of that by myself," he said accusingly. 

Hojo looked at him impassively. "Of course not."

Cloud growled, "You messed with my mind without my permission."

"You wanted to forget Cloud. You wanted it so badly_ I_ could taste it. All it took was a few small erasures of key elements; _you_ did the rest." Hojo smiled icily. "I did you a favor. I saved you years of mental pain."

"I assume you did the same thing to Sephiroth?"

Hojo nodded. "You both needed my help. I couldn't have you going at each other's throats-- and we certainly didn't want the truth of your father's death getting out. What would all of those hero-worshipping morons do if they learned their venerable god-like Sephiroth was the one he murdered the worshipped Kelo Cloud? Even your father's staged disappearance and a decade of absence couldn't dull the shine from his star."

A muscle in Cloud's cheek twitched. "No. Couldn't have that. You might actually have to deal with some of the shit you create."

Hojo reached for Cloud; he jerked away. "Don't touch me. Just…fuck off, you prick."

The slap was swift and caught Cloud over the cheekbone. He staggered slightly, his skin stinging. In a venomous voice Hojo said, "May I remind you that I saved your life? I took you in when your mother was deathly ill and you were too poor to eat. I fed you, clothed you and your mother, paid for her medical care and took you under my wing. I made something great of you."

"You made me into your personal errand boy, just a cut above the rest. Yes, you allowed me free access to scientific equipment, but you forced me to continue my training as a fighter. I'm just a smarter than average assassin with a bachelors in medicine," Cloud ended bitterly. 

"Be silent, boy." Hojo locked his hands behind his back. " As I was saying before you distracted me with your sudden stab of conscience,"--he gave Cloud a condescending look--"I want Zackary dead. You're going to get rid of him, any way you please."

"Yeah right. As if it hasn't been tried before."

Cloud almost said, _'as if he isn't already dying.'_ Hojo apparently didn't know about Zack's condition. Cloud was unwilling to tip Zack's hand. 

(_I'm right back where I started. Zack's death will hurt Sephiroth certainly; probably the closest I'll ever get to revenge on the bastard. But that's not fair to Zack-- especially if I might be able to save him, and hundreds of others in the process. Sheee-it, I always get the hard crap_.)

He listened to Hojo rant on, deciding that he was going to gather more information before he did anything. He realized this could be the beginning of something irreversible. He knew the next few days were going to be unpleasant.

(_Ok , Dad. Here we go.)_

--------------------------------------

Notes: This took me a very long time (relatively) to post, and I apologize repeatedly. Thank Lauren (My new friend!) who finally kick started me out of my writer's block. The Reno I portray sticks to cannon with the story that he had a hard childhood, however my Reno was based on a very specific portrayal of him. Many thanks to Akuma no Tsubasa and I recommend her story: _Scenic Route to the Promised Land: Part One._ It is brutal, so be prepared, and please review for her. (Many thanks again, Akuma.)

Sometime in the next few weeks, be on the lookout for a new FF7 story from me, centering around a relationship between Sephiroth and Cloud. _Jesavette_ will _NOT_ be neglected, as it is my top priority right now. Another piece of shameless promotion: if you are a Star Wars fan, please go read my story _Valin_ and review to tell me what you think.

….And you know this drill. But I'll go over it anyway. Review. You must review if you want more. I will _not_ start writing part 6 until I have 15 new reviews. I do this mostly because I've found it to be an effective way to get people to comment on my work. That's half the reason I keep this up, because I honestly want to know what you think. Just be kind, please…?

And lastly, I have been asked several things about my fic, and I will answer two of them. In my story, Cloud is 16; Zack is 22; and Sephiroth is 27.

The RI 2000-2002 at the top of every chapter is a copyright. It means the fic is property of Resh Ingenuity Fanfics 2000-2002, and should not be taken without my permission and never stolen. I will hunt you down and beat you with an ugly stick. =7

Kay? Until next chapter.


	6. Miscellaneous frustrations

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette 

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: I own this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: See bottom. Grammatical errors…you know this.

Jesavette, 6

--------------------------

__

Wild blue eyes, flashing silver, coming at him.

Was the sword or the blue eyes flashing silver?

Didn't matter, he was dying

Child of hate…

Sephiroth felt his body jerk and went with it, sitting up while still half way asleep. He gathered a handful of the sheet he was under and pulled. The sheet and spread over it came free of the mattress and Sephiroth wrapped himself in them as he sat up. He pressed his eyes with the heel of his hand. It felt to him that his thoughts were sluggish, like running through cold syrup. Only the time-blurred vision of Cloud racing at him was in normal time. Compared to his frozen thoughts, it seemed to replay behind his eyes in hyper speed. 

Sephiroth's stomach surged. Afraid to lose what little bit of sustenance he had in his stomach on the carpet, Sephiroth flung off the sheets and darted to the bathroom. He threw himself over the toilet just as his throat contracted. He leaned over the bowl for long minutes while he wretched, his stomach refusing everything he had filled it with over the last day. Only after the following dry heaves began to subside he dazedly sank to the chilly tile floor. With his left hand he awkwardly fished out a wash cloth and dampened it under the sink faucet, then pressed it to his clammy forehead. 

The blade young Cloud had used on him had been finished in a concentrated poison. Even after the blood had been stanched, his veins were carrying one of the most deadly poisons to be found on earth to every cell in his body. For weeks he had tottered on the line between life and death, wishing he _would_ die, just to be free of the continuing agony that no sedative could negate. Just thinking about it made him sick. Sephiroth wondered if it was a deliberate move by Cloud, or if he even knew about that aspect of the blade.

(_Probably knew. He knew standard SOLDIER battle crouch, and had no problem dispatching the other two--do I even remember their names?--but why would anyone teach their young child those things? Was his father training him to kill? To apprentice him to a mercenary? But why? Who would want their child to become what I am?)_

Sephiroth felt the acidic taste of saliva fill his mouth again but he didn't move. (_One promise to myself…no child of mine will ever know this world or the name of Shinra.)_

He made an effort to banish the memory that was causing his stomach to roll and pitch. He considered a drink, possibly something stronger. He tried to remember what all Zack had put in the toxic cocktail the night before. That put him to sleep almost instantly. He realized the chances of getting the mixture just right were very slim; Zack had played with alcohol mixes after enhancement, and made quite a bit of money bootlegging the products of his experiments. He was the only one that Sephiroth knew of that could get the right amounts by eyeballing it. Needless to say, he was a popular in the bars.

Sephiroth suddenly realized that he had hit on what he needed. Zack. The only thing--person--guaranteed to divert his attention. He tiredly let his eyes close. His mind drifted over various memories.

The first time he really saw Zack. The weapons instructor, a friend of his, kept going on and on about Zack's natural talent with a blade. Sephiroth decided to step in on a work out. He was thrown off guard and kicked in the ass by someone five years younger. 

His first fight with Zack. He was shouting to be heard over Zack's raised voice; the yelling increasing in volume as the argument escalated. Zack finally ended it decisively by throwing them both to the bed and inciting a night of relentless sex. By morning it was easy to shrug off the previous night's disagreement. Especially considering the pain they were both in. One thing about Zackary-- he gave as good as he got. 

An attempt on his life shortly after Zack stepped into position as his bodyguard. Zack saw it coming first. He lunged in front of Sephiroth, twisting to present his back to the assailant. There was a meaty thunk and he was knocked into Sephiroth. Zack's solid mass took them both to the ground, and Sephiroth saw the knife protruding from his back for the first time. Obviously he survived, but still… that incident had left him with the insane desire to lock them both in the house forever.

Sephiroth slowly opened his eyes, waiting for his stomach to rebel and heave itself again. When it didn't, he carefully got to his feet and made his way downstairs. He managed to cook and eat a little bit of food. Since it was something like three o'clock in the afternoon, he couldn't call it breakfast. The cup of coffee was sat down with was black and hideous, a sludgy mess that had the nerve to claim the title of Java, and he finally had to lace it with scotch just to get it down. 

He was teetering on the verge of sleep--that odd place where you fall down into blackness only to be jerked back to semi consciousness when your neck automatically pulls your bobbing head upright. The doorbell to the house rang, yanking him fully from sleep. The sleep cleared from his eyes almost instantly and he narrowed them at the door. He unstrapped both the knife and the loaded semi auto Zack kept strapped to the underside of the end table and rose swiftly. He positioned himself to the side of the door, holding the knife in a reverse grip along his forearm and training the muzzle of the gun on the door at shoulder height to him. To anyone smaller (say, Cloud Strife), it would be pointed at their head. In a steel voice he demanded, "Who is it?"

"Mikhail, sir. I have some stuff from Colonel Zackary."

It sounded like the timid office clerk that worked with his secretary, the obvious choice if Zack was going to send someone, and hardly a danger. If it was in fact him. "It's unlocked," Sephiroth told him through the thick wood. "Step inside." He moved back to lean on a table in the foyer. He jabbed the knife blade down in a pot overflowing with thick red flowers, wincing to himself and promising to make it up to his geranium with extra fertilizer, then folded his arms over the gun and assumed a negligent pose. The whole thing took him less than the second it took Mikhail to fumble the doorknob and push the oak door. It was heavy and the hinges were tight, two of Zack's precautions. Sephiroth had never once thought of an overly tightened hinge being a security measure before, and couldn't get Zack to say where he came up with it. 

Mikhail pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and jumped to see the General so close. He stood perfectly still while the General's gaze ticked past him and searched. It then switched back to him and Sephiroth motioned for him to shut the door. Mikhail blinked stupidly when Sephiroth played with a potted plant, but quickly hustled into the living room at Sephiroth's urging. He'd only been inside the General's house once before and was still awed by the sheer magnitude. He lived in a house with five other guys, and nothing so large. This was incredibly ornate and luxurious to him.

Sephiroth stepped around the mousy boy, Ignoring Mikhail's gawking. He politely offered the boy some coffee, which he accepted with a stutter. He held the mug almost reverently, as if he couldn't believe that he was drinking form the great General's own glassware, and Sephiroth found it mildly amusing. Jokes he rarely laughed at but life itself was incredibly funny. Getting over the moment of lightness he inquired, "You have something from the Colonel?" The manila envelope was sitting right beside the boy, but Sephiroth thought he would splash steaming coffee everywhere if his idol made any sudden moves.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." Mikhail set the mug down with exaggerated care and handed the package to Sephiroth. "It's mostly paperwork and a few pieces of mail," He recited. Sephiroth nodded as his flipped through some of the contents. "Did he say when, or if, he was going to escape the office?"

Mikhail's half smile indicated he understood exactly what Sephiroth meant. "No. Several complains came in earlier, some from the med ward, so he's going to be stuck for awhile." His tone was more confident now the he was back in familiar territory. The homes of superiors were new business, but he could run the office as capably as anyone could. "Also, the phones are on the fritz. If you need to talk to anyone in the offices, it's cell phones only."

Paranoid, Sephiroth wondered if the phones were Cloud's work. The idea dissipated like a fog. It made no sense, even if he looked at from the perspective of a traumatized young boy who'd possibly lost touch with reality. "Thank you, Mikhail." He made brief eye contact in which the young man bobbed his head solemnly. Sephiroth sensed the widening gap between himself and Mikhail and heard the front door as the young man slipped away. He paced back to the kitchen to pour himself another mug off the bitter sludge and sat back down with the documents from Zack. 

"Mail, mail, invitation…not a chance in hell." Sephiroth tossed the junk aside and shuffled through several documents bearing Shirna seals and high classification. He plucked one from the stack, his face clouding. Zack had stuck a blue post it on the outer letterhead with a question mark on it. Sephiroth recognized the departmental stationary. It was an update from the research center.

Sephiroth skimmed the document, backtracking over the scientific jargon to a mention that caught his eye. He re-read, frowned, and started to look for his boots. 

******

Cloud straightened his uniform and exhaled uncomfortably. He had no illusions that he would be trusted now, especially by Zack. He debated on the wisdom of laying himself in the Colonel's hands, but he needed to get the AWOL charges against him cleared if he was going to have any slack to work with. 

He skirted well around the residence where Sephiroth had holed up; he was still there, if the roaming phalanx of SOLDIERs were any indication. Cloud continued forward, ignoring the suspicious looks he was receiving. Paranoia came with his position as a sleeper; if his true status were discovered, he'd be quietly buried beneath Shinra. Only, his paranoia had never been this bad. With his memories suppressed, he couldn't possibly be fully aware of the threat that existed parallel to his presence in Shinra. Now he knew how treacherous his position was. 

(_Whatever. Get your head out of your ass, Strife, and pay attention. There's no reason to be caught, unless you get careless_.)

He passed out of the functional base area and into the office complex. Here the sidewalks were cooling white and spotless and the grass was a vibrant green. The buildings were the same gleaming alabaster concrete, almost painful to look at in the sun. He marched up the walkway to the main office. The blast of cool air that hit him when he stepped through the door sent a shiver down his spine. The darkly tinted door swung shut silently behind him and he hung back until his eyes readjusted to the relative darkness. At least it was cool. Shinra had mass produced its formal uniforms in the same woolen material everywhere; which is to say, in tropical climate like this, the heavy wool was a bitch. 

"Can I help you sir?" The clerk that spoke to him was smallish with a pair of owlish brown eyes. They blinked comically at him.

Cloud stepped forward. "I need to see Colonel Zackary…Don't bother looking, I don't have an appointment." 

The clerk stared at him uncertainly. The young man exuded cool assurance. Finally he nodded toward a row of chairs lined up against a darkly tinted window. "Please sit. I'll have the colonel notified that you're here, and we'll try to work you in…"

"No good." Cloud ignored his indignant look and fixed him with a penetrating stare. The young clerk felt himself drawing back from the brittle icy gaze. "But sir-"

"Tell Colonel Zackary that I am here," Cloud stated, arching a brow. He made it understood with his eyes that delays would not be tolerated. 

As will any creature that senses danger, the clerk reacted immediately. "Of course sir," he said hurriedly. He rose and disappeared through the inner office door. It didn't occur to him that the young man hadn't offered a name until he spoke to Zack, and the fact that Cloud was of a lower rank than he escaped his notice completely. He returned to lobby where the imperious young man was waiting calmly. The clerk took a breath. He had never been faced with such superior confidence. "The Colonel will see you now."

Cloud nodded and brushed past to the door leading to the inner offices. The secretary there tried to stop him, but a warning look cast at her from cold blue eyes sat her back down as quickly as she had risen. He easily found the door bearing Sephiroth's name and stepped through, shutting it firmly behind him and squaring himself in front of Zack.

Zack recovered from his initial surprise at the brisk entrance and leaned back in the leather chair. "You're about the last person I expected. And," He added, "definitely not in a Shinra uniform."

"I haven't done anything to warrant discharge, have I?" Cloud asked.

Zack picked up a squishy foam ball from the cluttered desk. "No. Should I even ask how you knew I was here today for Sephiroth?" 

Cloud shook his head; he didn't need to know that Cloud was jacked into the base's systems, the phones and the security cameras among them. 

Zack observed him for a moment, then engaged in tossing the foam ball from hand to hand. "All right then, let get down to it. Why are you here?" 

If nothing else, Zack's straightforward manner made Cloud less inclined to carry out his assigned task. "I'm here to discuss my status," he answered. 

Zack's chin jerked to one of the chairs by Cloud's leg. "Sit down. By status, you mean the formal charge of being AWOL."

"Yeah."

"Dropped," Zack flatly. 

Cloud was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, "Zack responded. He laced his finger together and crossed one booted ankle over his knee. "The charges have already been dropped and any punishment waived." He sat back and regarded Cloud. He was put together, seemingly comfortable and offering no hints to his state of mind "Sephiroth's going through hell, so I can only imagine what the last day has been for you. I figure you disappeared because you needed to. I'm not going to come down on your ass for it." 

"I appreciate it."

"Welcome… Are you ok, kid?" Zack asked. His attractive features expressed the concern in his shadowed eyes. 

"Can I answer that later?" Cloud requested wearily.

Zack noted the slip in his composure. "Sure. Anything else?"

Cloud looked him square in the eye. "I need today and tonight off."

Zack drew his head back and leaned into the cushioned leather chair. "Depends."

Cloud's brow arched amusedly. Compliantly he replied, "On what?"

Zack grinned at Cloud's play along, but quickly sobered. "Depends on what you do with it."

Resisting the urge to crack his neck--a habit he'd picked up over the past months-- Cloud shifted and answered truthfully, "I have a few things I need to take care of." Sensing that Zack wasn't going to go for it, he said almost too quietly, "Please. Trust me."

There was a moment of silence. Finally Zack nodded. "If you were going to kill Sephiroth, I don't think you'd ask the afternoon off. But I can't give any more time than that. I've got countless people on my throat about you as it is. And there's still the investigation of the Kelby assault," He reminded Cloud. The younger man exasperatedly rubbed his closed eyes. "Know how you feel," Zack said. "Seems like every thing happening on this base requires you or Sephiroth. 

Cloud was only half listening. He was staring at Zack's eyes. The color was continually shifting, flowing between violet and a strange magenta hue. He found himself dreading the sight of the deep glow fading with death and almost jerked. Zack was frowning at him. His too-complete training prompted him to gaze back evenly. 

Did he really want to kill Zack?Cloud he? Despite their very limited contact, he genuinely liked the SOLDIER. His bluntness and low bullshit tolerance was a nice change from mind games people played with each other every day. Cloud was a master at those games, but had long since grown tired of playing. To have it placed on the table with no pretense or drama felt like re-learning how to breathe. 

But all of it aside, Zack was _alive. _He'd done nothing to Cloud. This wouldn't be self-defense or a moment of grief fueled rage-- this would be a straightforward murder in cold blood. Despite everything else Cloud had done in his short and brutal life; espionage, theft, seduction, interrogation, and betrayal, among other things; he hadn't killed in cold blood before. He was long ago stripped of any innocence, but he still had a conscience and a soul…didn't he?

A sharp whistle and fingers snapping in front of his eyes brought him back. "Where are you at?" 

Cloud shook his head. "Not here," He replied. He looked at Zack strangely, still seeing a much deader version of him lying on the floor in his own blood. Cloud's eyes narrowed as he forcefully pushed the vision away. He already knew how he was going to kill Zack and there wouldn't be that much blood, but he still always associated flowing blood with death. 

(_I know? I've already decided to go ahead with this? Am I that numb?)_

"Fuck," He whispered.

Zack blinked. He glanced to the side as if whatever had Cloud upset was hovering right there. "…Something wrong?"

Cloud bolted to his feet and paced around the desk separating them. He was struggling. Though he gave no outward sign, it darkened his eyes. "Can I… I'm going to…I mean… Aw, fuck it. Don't take this personally, okay?" He moved forward swiftly and bent, pressing his mouth to Zack's. He tilted his head, kissing the SOLDIER more fully. His surprise mingled with Zack's when the older man responded to him, the more experienced mouth moving under his. Cloud's tight muscles trembled from the effort to hold the awkward position. Zack felt it, interpreted it correctly-- another uncanny ability--and reached up to support Cloud

For Cloud, for one impossibly short moment, there was him, and there was Zack, and that was it. then he drew back, pulling free of the strong grasp and looked into the violet eyes watching him carefully. Zack was startled and confused by his actions, and Cloud wasn't much clearer. He bit his lip and let his hands drop away from Zack's face. He straightened and backed away slowly, bumping into a large metal cabinet.

For long moments Zack searched his face and his intents. His face was mercifully clear and his voice steady when he asked, "why did you do that?"

Cloud's gaze ticked away. "I'm trying to understand something," he said in a hushed tone.

Zack understood this was significant, to this boy's life anyway, and prodded, "What?"

"Me." 

Zack's gaze was even and waited patiently. It took Cloud several moments to understand he was expected to say more. "I have some decisions to make…" He trailed of uncertainly, his young face troubled, he didn't seem to notice Zack anymore. "I, I…just… don't know. I'm not sure of anything. Except that I can't screw up here…" Cloud trailed off, overwhelmed and surprised by his confession.

"So don't screw up."

"It's not that easy. There are things that I have no control over, and things I have too much control over, and other things I don't even want to deal with…" 

Zack spoke up. "You know the best thing about being young?"

Knocked off balance by the abrupt topic change, Cloud answered that he didn't.

Zack sat back, locking his hands behind his head. "The best thing about begin young is that you're old enough to tackle decisions, but when you can't, you can just kind of sit back and let the problems come to you."

Cloud absorbed this. He didn't realize that in his own way, Zack was practically handing him the answer he needed. With his attention uncharacteristically distracted, Zack glimpsed past the layers Cloud presented to the outside world. Under his hardened shell of indifference, Cloud was contemplative, curious and obviously hurt--things he never allowed to surface. Zack suddenly wondered what he was like before his father's death. he couldn't prevent the words as they slipped out. "Were you talkative as a child?"

Cloud visibly jerked, his gaze flying back to Zack's face. All at once he realized how open he had left himself. Zack watched with painful fascination as Cloud's face changed before him; the emotions sank below the surface and the coolness settled over his features, effectively cutting Zack off from him. 

Silently Cloud swore furiously at himself. (_Great. Leave yourself open. When did you get so careless? No, it's not me...okay, better question. Why are you careless around Zack?)_

He decided he needed to leave, right now, Before Zack could affect him further. In a tone free of inflection and heavy with formality, he stated, "Thank you for your time, Colonel."

Zack was watching him knowingly. If that's the way he needed to play it. Matching his tone to Clouds he told the young man, "Report to the duty officer in the morning. We're slowly assimilating the Kelby people, so he may or may not have something for you to do. "

"Understood." Cloud saluted, spun on his heel. Opening and stepping through the door, He kept his eyes roaming. At one point a flash in his peripheral vision made his head turn, but it was gone. Uneasy for no discernable reason but fully trusting his gut that he needed to be out of the confines of the offices, he begin walking a bit quicker.

In the office, Zack massaged his temples until his headache became too intense. A light sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He knew that he was coming close to the point where he couldn't hide the severity of his sickness for much longer. The headaches and the night sweats were becoming worse and more profuse, and he bruised more easily with each passing day. He couldn't control outward signs like he could his pain. 

Dr. Orbson suggested that he tell Sephiroth, the sooner the better. Zack wanted to know how he was supposed to tell his lover he could be dying of an unknown condition when he wasn't handling it all that well. 

******

__

To: HB

From: SC4

Subject: Project 

Exposure confirmed; subject manifesting symptoms. Cellular disintegration six percent higher than expected. Surveillance photos and copies of compiled medical data from base physician collected as ordered. 

To: SC4

From: HB

Subject: Project

Send material by courier. Continue surveillance. Do not approach.

******

Cloud spent the afternoon in his memories, conjuring up ever memory he had of the months he'd worked with his father on the project they had ultimately abandoned. After a time memories came of their own volition, rising in his mind. He sat on a grassy dune overlooking the beach, scribbling madly. By nightfall the information was neatly organized in two notebooks. There were huge gaps that he couldn't fill in, pieces of information he couldn't recall or never knew in the first place, but he was being boxed in, slowly but surely, and he was running out of time. 

******

Zack shut the door tiredly, controlling his wince of pain. He shucked out of his jacket and tossed it over the couch back and went to the small kitchen. He pulled a cold drink from the fridge and turned, intending to go upstairs. He almost bumped noses with the man standing directly behind him. "Jesus Christ, Sephiroth…" He trailed off. 

Sephiroth's stare was unwavering. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound repentant. He scowled when Zack turned away from his attempt to kiss. "How was your day?" 

Zack's head turned slowly to meet the unwavering stare. "Fine…are you feeling ok?" He raked Sephiroth up and down with his violet gaze, but he could see nothing wrong aside from the shadows resting in his eyes. That was perhaps most portentous of all. He nabbed his drink with the fingers on one hand and laid the back of his other on Sephiroth's forehead as he passed. "You don't feel feverish."

"I'm not," Sephiroth told him. 

"That's good…what are you--mmph…" Zack barely got his glass on a steady horizontal surface before Sephiroth wrapped his arms tightly around Zack and crushed his lips to his. Zack endured the almost bruising affection only a moment before breaking the kiss and pushing Sephiroth back. Zack's face clouded, then abruptly cleared. "Nice to see you too, I guess." 

"Don't insult me by acting casual Zack."

Zack drew back, surprised and offended. "The hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, and the way you came in here acting as if nothing is wrong-"

"I didn't know anything was!"

"-Just completely happy to keep me in the dark and on the side-"

"What are you talking about?! I have no idea what you're ranting over-"

"-am not a moron, did you really think that you could just keep going like this-"

"I AM NOT DOING THIS." Zack shouted over him. He rubbed his forehead, his hand sliding on the sheen of sweat there. "I'm tired, I'm-" He almost admitted that he wasn't feeling good. He frowned at Sephiroth. "There's obviously something wrong here-"

"You're goddamn right there is-"

"-But I don't think even you know! Figure it out and get back to me." Zack gave Sephiroth a wide berth and climbed the stairs. Sephiroth turned a minute later and stormed after him, following him to their shared room and slamming the door forcefully. Zack's head turned and he glared. "What is your problem?! Well?" He demanded

"We need to talk, right now."

"Oh, no. I am not doing this." Zack laughed bitterly. "I am getting out of this uniform, I am crawling in that bed, and I am getting sleep. Is that clear?" He said sharply.

"Are you ordering me now?… No, we are going to talk," Sephiroth said, his hand flashing out and catching Zack around the bicep. He didn't see the wince of pain he caused and dragged Zack back around to face him. Zack ripped free of his grip. "Fuck you," He flung at his lover. 

"Cloud Strife's already doing that."

"The f_uck_ are you…" His words halted as he sucked in his breath between clenched teeth. Sephiroth's hand was digging into his arm while the General pulled their bodies flush. Zack had no time to speak again because Sephiroth's hand locked his neck in a clench and he covered Zack's mouth with his. Sephiroth's tongue forced past his, probing his mouth relentlessly. 

Zack started to struggle against the unexpected invasion but Sephiroth tightened his grip. Zack gasped into his mouth, a feeling like his bone being crushed shooting down his arm. He had to stop this now. Planting one hand against Sephiroth's chest, he pushed, but the silver haired man was unmoved. His arm encircled Zack's waist and pulled him even closer, crushing them together. Zack's shirt rode up, exposing a path of bare tanned skin. Sephiroth's fingers found it immediately. His rough hand slid further beneath t he shirt, passing over Zack's muscular back and moving higher up his back. Zack felt his shirt riding higher and redoubled his efforts, but was forced to stop and gasp for air when Sephiroth held him tighter to quiet his squirming. He was in abject pain now, fire arrowing down his legs and radiating from his shoulders. He jerked his head back, turning his cheek to Sephiroth. "Don't do this to me…" his voice was steady but quiet and Sephiroth didn't hear him or ignored him. He didn't seem to miss Zack's mouth, ducking his head to trace a path from his neck to his earlobe with his tongue. His kisses and licked his way lower, biting down mindlessly at one point. 

Zack bit his lip and tugged at the strong hands holding him. Somehow without letting go of him, Sephiroth stripped off his shirt and tossed in on the floor. he planted a hard kiss on Zack collarbone and straightened back up. His eyes flashed dangerously with lust and vacancy. Zack shuddered and dug his heels in when Sephiroth began to muscle them toward the bed. A thousand needles of pain sprang up, demanding his waning attention, stealing energy he couldn't spare. His mind drifted from the moment he was in, descending to the blood red carvern where pain resided, falling in. He unknowingly became limp, his head drooping on Sephiroth's shoulder. A great jarring brought him out of the red haze of pain. Sephiroth had thrown them on the bed and pinned him on the bottom. Fingers were fervently clawing at his pants. Zack tried one last time to gain some leverage. Sephiroth jerked the well-worn uniform slacks over his hips before dropping his full weight on Zack, stopping his fight. 

Zack had to breathe deeply and slowly to keep his panic from over taking his mind. He couldn't breathe in enough air with Sephiroth on his chest. Also frightening was his inability to stop this. He was stronger the Sephiroth, but in his weakened state he was no match for the stronger body holding him down. He felt Sephiroth's mouth on his neck again and shut his eyes. He stopped struggling, allowing the older man to strip him completely, then himself. With seemingly no effort Sephiroth rolled their naked bodies, leaving Zack sprawled face down. He winced at the uncaring handling of his body and held it because he knew what was going to happen next. 

Sephiroth was fixated on his task. He draped himself over Zack, moving his mouth over the dark headed man's neck while his fingers left bruises on his hips. He flipped them, moving one arm up to hold Zack to his chest while his other hand slid down. Zack's back arched when he found his target, taking the length in his hand. He toyed; hearing Zack's helpless groans and feeling himself harden and thrust into Zack's backside. 

He let go of Zack, rolling him off on his side. He snatched at Zack again before he could go far, spooning himself behind him, pressing flesh to flesh. His mind was screaming different things at him, but the need to be sated was most demanding. He draped Zack leg back over his leg, moving into the space it created for him. He probed at the entrance to Zack's still body, experience guiding his motions where his checked-out mind was unable. He felt Zack tremor under his hands and reached down to his length again, squeezing brutally. A growl of half pleading-half rejection escaped Zack's throat, only serving to spur him on. His hand worked furiously, matching the chaos ricocheting around his mind, a consuming fog that stifled cohesive thought. Zack jerked wildly in his arms. Sephiroth's hand traveled up to his throat, his mind only recognizing that the movement was unwanted by him and that it needed to stop. The control lock across Zack's throat and shoulder cut into his breathing and applied pressure the weakened joint of his shoulder. He could feel the grinding at the ball began to slip out of the socket under the pressure.

He pushed into the clenched entrance. The constrictive heat sent a blinding flash past his eyes. He dipped and thrust upward. His hand smothered the low scream that rumbled from Zack's throat. Another thrust buried him deeply within, as was as he could go. The body around him tremored, causing him to shudder in turn. His mind forced him on. Move,move,move.

Zack grabbed Sephiroth's arm and wrenched his hand away from his mouth. Sephiroth didn't seem to notice the bones in his arm grinding against one another. He clenched his jaw as Sephiroth began to move inside him, his thrusts picking up speed and intensity. His resentment at being taken this way couldn't wall out his own burning need. Sephiroth was touching a particularly sensitive spot with each deeper plunge. Zack could hear Sephiroth's breathing become ragged and waver from the violent trembling that was gripping his body but his pace didn't slow or relent. Zack forced himself back onto Sephiroth with each return thrust. The burn began to expand to unbearable levels. Each thrust and tremble became inevitable, necessary. The stopping point had been run over. His arousal had committed him to this and he had to end the driving burn. 

Sephiroth's body picked up a frantic pace as he neared his end, his last trust going deep where he released. Zack arched against him, hitting the peak a half a second behind. He was dimly aware of Sephiroth's arm tightening, a warm hand sliding beneath his hip as he climaxed, shuddering violently. He pressed his face deep into the pillows; his body working of its own accord. 

The pleasure began to fade in the face of mounting pain. Sharp pains, slicing agony from all over began to make themselves known, screaming, driving him into a haze of half consciousness. He didn't feel Sephiroth withdraw or the see the impassive look in his eyes as he rose over Zack and mechanically brushed away the stay tear tracking down his lovers face. He didn't see the emptiness in Sephiroth's eyes. There was only pain. Lots of consuming pain, threatening to stain him red.

In a floating state of numbness between unconscious and insane, Sephiroth's mind was gearing down. Before the magnitude of his actions could catch up, sleep claimed him.

******

Cloud jacked into the outer security panel of the main offices and plugged in a palm sized data card. He typed in a command code and random numbers began to flashover the panel's face. A nine-digit number appeared and blinked twice; an indicator on the bottom of the panel lit up green. Cloud replaced the panel covering and shoved the data card in his pocket. He pushed the heavy glass door open and stepped inside. The cameras and sensors were already shut off so he moved swiftly though the maze of doors to the core offices. His target was Sephiroth's office. The door there was locked; nothing sophisticated like the front entrance, just a simple deadbolt. Cloud pulled a fold of suede from his boot and unrolled it in his gloved hand. He selected two of the slender metal bars and fitted them in the lock. A few seconds later the tumblers clicked. (_Thanks Dad_.) Cloud rose from his crouch and cautiously entered. 

The file cabinets sitting along the west wall were simple key engaged rigs. It took him no effort to jimmy the locks. Soon he was rifling through a hundred files with a pen light, looking for any of the missing mission files mentioned in Zack's medical file. 

…An hour later he was convinced there was nothing. He replaced everything, sprayed a neutralizer that would kill any scent he left behind and slipped back out. He waited in the shadows outside until the passing guard was out of sight and slipped away, dreading the next step. Without alternatives to explore, there was only forward to go, as ordered.

------------------------

(I really need you to read the following notes _ALL THE WAY THROUGH )_

Fic notes: Review and if you see any typos, leave a message in the review saying what and where. Ex: Misspelled anomalous in the paragraph where Cloud's signaling aliens with a lighter. Also, I'll try to post every weekend. May or may not happen.

I'm going take a small hiatus from Jesavette. Relax, only for a week to work on my other forth-coming fic. I hope to have it out sometime soon. (Can I hope as early as spring break?) I also just need a break. My mind works on dozens of parallel tracks and holding to just one story frustrates me. 

__

Author's Notes: I've noticed that (to me anyway) The chapters seem to be getting progressively worse. I'm breaking one of my major rules: quality, not quantity. So I'm going to be taking more time on each chapter, being more careful with my writing and going over them carefully for typos before posting them. This will cause greater lengths of time between chapters, but I'd rather you have a good chapter instead of a lot of crappy ones. Comments on each chapter via E-mail would be nice, but please be gentle with me--I work hard on my fics and I'm overly sensitive to criticism concerning them, since writing stories appears to be my one talent. (some blunt soul may disabuse me of this notion later.)

If you like Star wars, check out my other story there, _Valin_. It centers on Corran Horn and his son's birth. It only has three lonely little reviews….


	7. Ongoing lives

Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

RI 2000-2002

Disclaimer: I own only this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes- see bottom. I hope all the grammatical errors have been worked out. 

Jesavette, 7

----------------------------

Dawn didn't break, but creeped, staining a blue-black sky a dusky violet, then gray, and finally a radiant pink to announce the arrival of day. It was to be another pleasant day, warm and bright…

Then the messengers came bearing news that brought an unshakable chill: Massacre raids during the night had devastated the Western forces encamped along the Black River. A pale, wrung out messenger that had actually been on site during the raids and privately told the base commander-- that is, Sephiroth--that the casualties were well in to the thousands and the Black River now ran red. 

And so a new round of tension began, escalating almost as quickly as it had after word of the Kelby attack broke, only this time, no move was made to prevent the news from leaking. It would more than difficult because the messenger had arrived in plain sight; with so many of the young teens from Midgar skilled at sniffing out the truth beneath the shiny veneer, the truth would be out in whispers in a matter of hours. As expected, after Sephiroth made the decision to let it go word spread rapidly, like a fed wildfire over dry plains, sweeping the base in a storm of shock and outrage. It was spoken of in hushed, stunned whispers and vengeful oaths. 

Undercurrent to the surface tragedy that would eventually resolve itself into the reality of lost lives, of lives of friends lost, was a more ominous consideration. Any creature with a brain compacity larger than a sand grain could ponder the implications behind this new attack, could see the blatant strategy behind such a move: striking Shinra not necessarily where it was weakest, but where it would cripple. To attack Kelby and the inland forces in rapid succession was a risk --the reserves scrambled to assist in the Kelby withdraw could still be on alert, or it could work to their advantage and the assist teams could have trouble switching their focus. Either way, nailing those selected targets meant the loss of recruits and a dent in the largest concentration of Shinra assets. In common terminology, 'assets' became 'SOLDIERs', and the loss of experienced strike teams as well as talented Troopers that could be trained to replace them, meant the virtual annihilation of Shinra 's backbone.

Others, unsurprisingly the Midgar-bred individuals, with an ingrained suspicion and the survival technique for looking at any possible threats, wondered about other possible implications. As damaging as this hit and fade strategy to key elements of the Shinra was, it was too straightforward to be readily accepted by those skilled in warfare--namely survival. Anyone who had to fight for survival on the streets knew you had to be better, faster, and three steps ahead of the next guy to get what you wanted. Translating that into war tactics, it begged the question "_are depleted resources really the ultimate goal?_"

As these questions began to cut and more extensive reports began flooding in, tension mounted, putting a palpable charge in the air, affecting everything under the stifling blanket of uncertainty and restlessness, twisting the tightly strung feelings a few more turns too tightly. Things peaked when the brass suddenly convened in private for a council of emergency. It was far shorter than anyone expected, but with much tighter security. 

Another source of speculation was the appearance of Sephiroth--with his security detail-- looking absurdly calm. He hadn't gone anywhere the last few days without a phalanx of SOLDIERs with or near him, and he had been less than relaxed then. Cloud Strife was involved, but he was conspicuously absent. 

And, even more strangely, so was Zack, on the morning of the Council of Emergency.

*******

Cloud was asleep when the news broke, but he was resting fitfully, plagued by random nightmares, like little puzzle pieces that culminated in a full terror ride sometime in the morning. A thin film of sweat slicked his skin as his mind gathered his every fear and shoved it at him with the force of an avalanche on top of a volcanic eruption. It had about the same effect, first flushing him with a hot-dream fury, then freezing him with chilling fear. He'd never been dragged around by his emotions like this; he'd never let himself be. In his dream, he was out of control and that might have been the worst part. 

When he finally did drag himself free of the clinging nightmare, he sat up in his bed so abruptly he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He immediately checked on the notebooks shoved into his mattress, via a lateral slice in the mattress itself. They were still there and the outward pointed knife he'd wedged in with them as a precaution was still in place and free of blood. His attention turned to other matters, like his sheets. There were giant damp spots where he'd sweated through them. Not even the standard tactic of pinning them in the window so they could flap in the breeze would help here. Sighing, Cloud rolled out of bed to strip off his sheets, then remembered he was supposed to report in. A flashing glance at his watch told him he had precisely thirteen minutes to get into uniform and get his butt across base. 

He yanked the sheets free and sent them sailing in a ball toward the barrack hamper, then whirled to the upright locker separating his bed from the next and yanked out the uniform he'd been issued. He dressed faster than he ever had before. Though Shinra was not his priority and he'd probably be safer if he simply deserted, his father had ingrained a sense of duty in him that ran to the bone. As long as he was in Shinra, he'd follow the given orders. 

He yanked on his boots and buckled them, then reached in the mattress. The knife he sheathed and staked down into his boot; the notebooks he shoved inside his jacket. 

Cloud practically banged the barracks' screen door off its hinges and sailed over the three steps, hitting the hard-packed dirt on the stoop and lunging out into a run. He hit full stride in a half dozen steps and leapt onto a personnel transport just as it began to pull away. The flatbed jeep sped along at a decent speed. When Cloud judged he was as close to the duty office as this route would take him, he hopped off, landing lightly. He jogged the last few hundred feet around some attractively planted flowers and thin trees. 

The Duty office was a hive of controlled madness. The last of the Kelby people were being absorbed into the base's economy as they came back into active status; as such, it was a headache trying to place them all. Cloud put his name on the list and found a seat just outside in the shade. He sat straight to minimize the irregular outline the notebooks made under his jacket. The metal coils holding the pages together had grabbed his ID tags and were pulling on his neck but Cloud gave no sign of discomfort. Outwardly, he was as calm as he had been the day before in the main offices, just less commanding. He had always been able to do that--affect a personality and force it on other people. It was a handy talent if you did what Cloud did. He used to wonder if that talent came from his father, before the revelation of Sephiroth's role in his father's death had ripped the scarred wound wide open. Now the mere thought of Sephiroth ignited a slow burn in the pit of his stomach, but he kept his fury from his expression. When he found out, he'd been consumed by a hate that blinded him. It also frightened him, conflicting with his number one commandment: Stay in control. A loss of control would send the angles he was juggling skewing off, unrecoverable. Then after the calming influence of drugs came distractions, situations where focus was key and he'd had no time for anger. But now there was nothing to stop the slowly boiling anger. 

Sephiroth. It was his fault. His father was dead because of that bastard. He deserved to die.

But Cloud wanted to know why he'd been there at all. Why had a task force been sent? He'd always assumed it was for his father's work, but what if it was something else? Sephiroth might know…but the thought of getting close to his father's murderer left him seeing red. Only practice kept the fury from showing

"CLOUD STRIFE!"

Cloud's gaze snapped up. The duty officer was standing in the doorway with a clipboard in hand, scribbling furiously on it. He glanced up after a moment to see if Cloud was present, grunting when Cloud stepped up. "This way." He tucked the clipboard under his arm and whirled off into the office. 

Cloud arched a brow before following.

The Duty officer led him to the Duty Master's office. The atmosphere inside was brisk and the massive desk was lacking of personal affects--in short, very military. The Duty Master himself was short, grizzled and possessing a glass eye that added to rather than detracted from the pale color of his natural eye. He was notoriously boar-like in his social manners and he could glare the paint off a wall. Had he been a woman, he would have shaved his legs with a weed whacker.

None of this was very impressive to Cloud, whose background was as dark as an alley and probably as morally filthy. He'd seen and dealt with individuals that would eat the Roster Master for breakfast. Hell, Cloud _WAS_ one of those individuals. He sat coolly in his assigned seat, a dusty chair with cracking leather, and tightly contained his boiling emotions. That the Roster Master carried out his normal arrogant, self-important slaver attitude, completely ignorant of the fact that Cloud could probably make him squeal like a baby, was a private source of black amusement for the younger man. 

The Duty Master shuffled papers while he glared at Cloud, taking in the young man's impassive expression and his annoying habit of meeting the Duty Master's gaze directly. He didn't like it when they did that. 

"If it was up to me, I'd kick you out on your ass," He groused finally, after locating the sheaf of paper work that had come down from Mr. Big Britches in the main offices. Cloud Strife was to be assigned. No punishment, no hard hours, no _nothing._ Nothing he could do about it, though he thought this kid could use some hard labor. "I'm assigning you to J Barracks, Twentieth Platoon, third team. Because of your background in field medicine, I'm making you the primary field medic for that platoon and also tasking you to assist in the medical ward twice a week, or whenever Dr. Orbson needs you. 

The name Orbson clicked in Cloud's mind. 

__

( Orbson…Zack's medical file)

The Duty Master leaned forward, unaware that he had temporarily lost Cloud's attention. "I know how you shook off those AWOL charges, but you can't stay in a superior officer's good graces forever. You'd better get it together."

Cloud didn't react to the insinuation that he was sleeping with a superior. Instead, Cloud forced himself to listen to the entire rhetoric about standing on his own _two_ legs before saluting properly and leaving the office. 

As he walked, the scowl on his face wasn't from the sunlight in his eyes. His mind immediately went back to Sephiroth. He didn't stay there long, instead skimming over to the next thing causing him pain, and the next, until he had them all lined up neatly in a row in his mind. It was enough to touch off a volcanic explosion, but Cloud held it in. 

__

(This is a situation no sixteen-year-old should be in…I didn't deserve this.)

Cloud wasn't fully aware of finally admitting that he hated his life, but he was aware that some of his choices had been forced on him and others had been accepted willingly. What he'd become was his own fault, but he hadn't known any other way to survive. 

The notebooks against his chest crinkled as he walked. He took a small detour to slip them into a previously scouted safe place, then got back on tract before anyone could miss him. Cloud headed to his barracks to change and then transfer his things, then he went to the medward, intending to check in with Orbson and perhaps get another look at Zack's medical file. Without access to mission information, really only a hunch in the first place, it was back to square one. What he needed was a sample of Zack's blood.

(Yeah right. Unless some deity owes me a favor, there is very little chance that I'll have unrestricted access to Zack's blood, especially with the good doctor in on the little secret. And I can't just ask Zack because if I'm wrong, it's giving him false hope--not what a dying man needs.)

A small pang penetrated his wraps of anger and resentment. Zack was dying, and not by any natural means. The SOLDIER represented Kelo's greatest fear: His work used to injure. Momentarily distracted, Cloud wondered if he could synthesize some sort of enzyme upkeep for Zack and administer it without knowledge…

Cloud's preternatural and developed senses stopped him before he ran into the flanking line of the SOLDIER escort around Sephiroth. Thoughts of helping Zack fled as he locked eyes with the one he hated most. 

Sephiroth struck Cloud as overly calm, as if he'd been on a sedative binge, but his chilly blue eyes flickered. Cloud's own ocean blue eyes narrowed at the small outward sign of what he hoped was intense discomfort. He watched in confusion, as Sephiroth seemed to fluctuate rapidly between unsettled and uncaring. Then the General's eyes narrowed in return, as if he had ultimately decided on uncaring. It all took less than a second, and then Sephiroth was past him, the phalanx of SOLDIERs moving in concert with him effectively shuffling Cloud away. 

Disturbed, Cloud didn't turn to watch them depart. He stared at the ground, as if he could find the answer in the dirt. His instincts had long served him accurately so he couldn't easily dismiss the sudden thought that Sephiroth hadn't willingly chosen. In fact, Cloud might have seen just a touch of something in his eyes. Like…desperation? Hopelessness? 

The rage was still there, but it was tempered by this new encounter. Just when he thought something might be simple and straightforward. In his life? Fat Chance.

*******

He was being sized up. It was an odd feeling, but that was definitely, what the harried-looking doctor was doing. Apparently satisfied, the doctor leaned back and shoved a clipboard at him. "Sign." He directed gruffly. 

Cloud scrawled his name on a line and looked back up. The doctor inspected his handwriting too, as if was some open window into Cloud himself. It wasn't likely, considering Cloud hadn't signed his name in his natural script; he'd used the rolling, angled hand he attributed to Kelo Strife. Clouds' own signature was jagged.

"I assume since you've got your minor's degree in medicine, you can draw blood." It wasn't a real question, so Cloud nodded as the doctor went on. "I have a SOLDIER here, a hard draw. Give it a shot; no one else can do it. But do not work up the blood in bringing it to me. Understand?"

"Understood." Cloud mentally grit his teeth. He needed to get into the damn file room. Patience, patience. If he didn't get his chance here, he'd come back at midnight with torsion bars and a security scrambler. Then Orbson's words snapped together in his mind.

Hard draw. SOLDIER. Personal Blood analysis. Hello, Zack. 

What a hell of a break. Screw the file room. If he could get some blood…

Sure enough, Zackary was perched cross-legged on a bed in one of the three private rooms. He seemed smaller, as if his frame had shrunk. Well no shit, He had an unknown condition feasting on his body tissues. But what really struck Cloud was the downcast look on his face--and the massive bruising along his right shoulder. Cloud was willing to bet it extended down his back. Zack's shirt was off to reveal a half dozen places where his torso was bandaged. The physical damage and emotional grinding sparked off one name in his head.

Sephiroth. 

It made sense. He knew Zack was fine yesterday, and now he was here looking like someone shoved a detonator up under his ribs and blew it off, and Sephiroth was looking like a perfectly heartless bastard. New rage boiled up. Cloud stamped it down. His 'calm' voice addressed Zack.

"We can't have any normal meetings, can we?"

Zack's head snapped up. Cloud wanted to wince. He didn't have the bone density to be doing that. But Zack smiled, full and bright. "Hey kid. Guess not."

Cloud walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a pair of gloves and a flat tray. The tray he sat down beside Zack, the gloves he put on. "Hope you like being stuck several dozen times."

Zack made a face. "You're the one they sent to try it this time?"

"Yeah."

"Who'd you piss off?"

"Everyone," Cloud replied promptly. "Now shut up and hold still."

"That's disrespecting a superior officer. I could have you hauled in for that."

"And I could ask you what the hell happened," Cloud returned, not wanting to play Zack's game today. He didn't want to act as if nothing was wrong. As he predicted, Zack fell silent immediately. Cloud lined up vials and various objects on the tray, letting the silence drag on, feeling worse as it did. He wrapped Zack's upper bicep in a tourniquet, and then paused, looking him straight in the eye. "Thanks for the time."

Zack eyed him. Then he shrugged, wincing as he did. "Did you get anything figured out?"

"Some. Not as much as I wanted, but it helped."

"Good." Zack hesitated, uncertain. "Listen, Strife. Don't broadcast this." By 'this', he gestured to himself, the bandages and the bruises.

Cloud gave him a shut down expression. (_Broadcast that you're almost certainly being abused, probably sexually, by the one man that I'd really love to kill? Perish the thought.)_

"Sure. It's your life," Cloud said, an edge beginning to creep into his voice. 

"It's not what you think." 

"Really? Somehow, I don't think you know what I think, but why don't you give it a shot?" Cloud suggested in a tone tinged with acid. 

Zack's own face began to manifest signs of rising anger. "Yes, Sephiroth did this to me. But not of his own accord."

Cloud was busy flicking his finger the inside of Zack's elbow. "Not of his own accord," he echoed. "Then by what?"

Zack shifted without moving his arm from Cloud's grip, which was surprisingly gentle. It was also warm, something Zack couldn't manage anymore, no matter how hot the weather or how heavy the blankets. Zack felt Cloud supporting his elbow with his left hand, using his thumb to stretch the skin. He was dying he knew that. The only reason he still submitted himself to this stuff was to help the next guy who got it, whatever _it_ was. He took a breath, looking away. He really didn't want to see the kid stabbing at his too-slack flesh with a needle. "It's happened twice before, Sephiroth sort of shuts down. He does stuff he wouldn't do otherwise. A couple of days later he's back to himself. He doesn't have a whole lot of memory, just a lot of grief. But in the time between the power down and the reboot, he kind of loses it."

Cloud jerked slightly. _(What was the report I saw last time I cracked the tumblers on Hojo's safe?)_ He couldn't recall anything clearly, but Zack's recount sounded eerily familiar to the contents of the paper. (_Great. Yet another thing for me to look into. Who ever said the thirst for knowledge is good _wasn't_ me.)_

"Hold still." Picking up the catheter, he aimed at the vein he thought he's found, praying he wasn't about to jam it in an atrophied muscle. The first stick yielded nothing. Cloud fiddled with the catheter, withdrawing it and easing it back in at a different angle. This time, the needle slid home, and the thin tubing trailing from it was filled with dark blood. Cloud quickly attached the other end of the tubing to a startlingly large vial. Zack's blood was running slower than a healthy person's, so Cloud had some time to speak. "Check it out," He said softly.

Zack glanced down to see his blood flowing into a vial. He was surprised, and not only by the ease, Cloud had managed what other people had swiss-cheezed him trying for. "Jesus, that vial's the size of my third leg."

Cloud pressed his lips shut over a shouting laugh, hanging his head while his shoulders shook. When he could finally look up, he found himself staring at Zack's ident tags. Strung next to the flat, stamped metal was a ring, hanging at junction of his pectoral muscles. A blue stone glittered under the artificial light, completely un-artificial itself, Cloud could tell. Also in his scope of perception was Zack's bare skin, still tanned and smooth, if a little pale beneath the golden color, giving no sign to the destruction underneath. Flicking his eyes back to the catheter and replacing the vial with a new one, he commented, "Nice."

Which he was talking about, the ring or Zack's chest was entirely up for debate.

Zack chose the ring. He looked down, pulling it into view with his free hand, grimacing as he did. "My father's."

Something about his tone struck Cloud. He sounded stiff, resentful. And unutterably sad. "Did he die?"

"You might say that. My uncle, my mother's stepbrother, killed him. He was obsessed with my mother, and my dad sometimes got a little insulting when he was drunk. Nothing bad, but it was enough to set my uncle into a righteous frenzy. He was never stable anyway."

Cloud added a third vial; somewhat concerned that Zack was going to be light headed. "And?"

"He killed my old man. Me, being all of twelve, decided to go after him."

Well now. That sounded familiar, despite disparate ages. "Obviously you're still alive," Cloud said, attempting to get more out of Zack. He could apply more pressure, more subtly, and get Zack to tell him everything, but it didn't feel right. Cloud could match a trained politician, but thankfully, he had more scruples. (_Keep telling yourself that. You're supposed to kill this man, and you're making small talk.)_

Zack let the prodding go unanswered. He was still acutely aware that Cloud most likely wanted Sephiroth dead. Though the boy was doing an impressive job of holding it back, Zack could see the fury building. Cloud's distinctive blue eyes held some mako-like qualities, among them the tendency to flux colors as his emotions shifted. This boy certainly did not need to hear that Zack had hunted down his uncle and ran him through, watching with delight as his uncle bled to death. It wasn't until after Zack's realization of his elation that he's become violently sick. Soon after that, he'd left home. He'd carried the same pent up anger as Cloud, and he'd erupted. Untrained, unconditioned and younger than Cloud, it had been very bad. Cloud was all of that and older; he could do some serious, irreparable damage. 

Zack glanced down at his arm to see what was going. The third vial was half full. "Since we're sharing life stories, how about you?"

"What about me?" Cloud responded evasively.

Zack rolled his eyes. "Speak kid. Tell me something."

Cloud raised his chin. Deep blue met violet and held. "What do you want to know?"

Zack, who had always maintained that feeling was better than refusing, allowed affection and something a touch stronger sweep him. For the first time, he gave Cloud's unnaturally beautiful features more than just a quick once over. Strange blue eyes flickered, shifting, set in an almost delicate face, lightly tanned, while exquisitely carved cheekbones made him truly breathtaking. Strong shoulders, a lithe frame and long muscular legs completed a package almost too good to be human. It was a wonder the boy hadn't already been claimed--or raped--a dozen times over. There was enough libido on this base to spare-- and he was no exception-- and Cloud was easily the most desirable thing in a wide radius. Though he was still with Sephiroth, there was certainly no denying Cloud Strife. 

But behind the allure, there was pain. Pain piled on top of pain. Zack smiled gently, almost sadly. He chose a subject that he thought might not spark more of it. "Tell me about your mother."

Cloud took a breath and in slow words, halting sentences and affectionate terms, he spoke of his mother. All the while, he kept his eyes locked with Zack. Only after long moments, was Zack able to break the palpable link created between them--while marveling at the ease with which it seemed to form--and glanced down. The third vial was just reaching full. Zack frowned. It was taking a long time.

"They usually do."

Zack quickly glanced up. 

"They usually take awhile," Cloud elaborated. "The last one's always the bitch in the group."

Zack wasn't sure if he was unsettled or intrigued by this--Cloud's ability to read him, and read him well. He made no comment as Cloud replaced the last filled vial on the tray and gently slid the catheter free. After pressing a cotton ball to the small hole in his arm and securing it with a stretchy piece of tape, Cloud cleared the rest of the supplies. He met Zack's eyes briefly, raising both brows, then balancing the tray, he moved to leave, saying as he opened the door, "I'll send Orbson in a minute."

Then Cloud paused. He looked back at Zack, his face troubled. "Why? You explained how Sephiroth was able to, but you never said why."

Zack sighed, perfectly willing to share, but wondering if this time he should. "I haven't got that completely sorted out. But…I think…I think that he thinks we're sleeping together."

Startled couldn't begin to describe what Cloud felt, but it was safely hidden behind a well-experienced, impassive mask, that activated of its own will now. His suspicion was that Sephiroth had done it to attack Cloud through Zack. He'd been right about Sephiroth suspecting a spark between them, but his estimate of Sephiroth's reasoning was way off. He wanted to say, "_So what? He did this to punish you? Or is it his sick idea of staking out his territory?"_ But he said instead, "Why do you stay with him if he's that unstable?"

Zack shook his head. "You'll have to put five years of your life into someone-- it's the only way you'll understand."

Cloud pressed his lips together, then turned and stepped through the door, allowing it to cut him off from Zack. 

Orbson practically jumped him in the hall. "Did you get them?" He demanded.

"Yes." Cloud offered up the tray he'd been carrying low. He scowled as the doctor snatched the blood- filled vials up, thinking that it was obvious that Orbson was hiding something. Zack would have been better off confiding in someone else.

(_Like you? Great idea. Tell his will-be killer exactly what's going on. That way you could just choose; kill him now or just wait and not even implicate yourself. Speaking of which, why bother helping him in the first place, if you're so convinced you're going to follow your orders?)_

Shut up, Cloud angrily ordered the nasty little voice. He tuned back in to the doctor just as he told Cloud to go to the head RN for something to do. As Cloud walked through the sterile white halls with their sunshine filled-windows, he slipped his hands into his pockets. The fingers on his left hand closed around a smooth cylinder vial of Zack's blood, the fourth that he'd filled while keeping Zack occupied. Now he had his blood sample. 

*******

[Earlier that day]

Silence reigned in the luxurious boardroom. Sephiroth, icy calm, settled his back against the leather chair. "You're certain it's our pesky little weapon scare again?"

"Not one hundred percent, but as close as we can be. Agents in the field isolated an energy output frequency, the same as last time on mission…" --the analyst consulted a folder--, "mission number 77645. The weapon was fired, but we don't know where, or what. No eyewitness reports can even confirm the presence of anything odd."

Sephiroth arched a silvered brow. "Odd in comparison of our army being slaughter by an enemy force that, from what few details we can scrape, may have been half or even a fourth in size? Or just odd, as in 'unusual.'

The data analyst cleared his throat. "The misuse of wording is duly noted, sir. But it's still odd, to me at least, that there's a new weapon out there, one with a high output, that no one has even seen."

"That means one of two things to me," Sephiroth said. "It's a new design made to look common place, or it's just very, very effective." His lips actually curved in a thin smile. 

Disturbed by Sephiroth's malicious nonchalance, the data analyst shifted uncomfortably. The other officers taking part in the Council of Emergency murmured among themselves. Sarge was among them, but his attention was mostly on Sephiroth, noting the drastic change in him, and the absence of his second in command, Zack. 

Sephiroth spread his hands. "Anything else?"

A low level paper shuffler, whom Sephiroth disliked, stood. "We received another report just before convening. As it stands right now, the Forces are without clear command."

"What are you speaking of?" One shaven bald man demanded.

"I'm speaking off the confirmed slaughter of every commanding officer. Everything higher than a sergeant is zipped in a body bag or scattered around."

Murmurs rose in volume until Sephiroth stood, cutting the short. Placing his knuckles on the table, Sephiroth asked, "How long until replacements can be shipped in?"

"We're gathering them, sir, but it's going to take a couple of days. There are good men out there, capable of leading-"

"I'll take it myself."

"What? Excuse me sir, but did you just-"

Sephiroth straightened. "I'll go myself. We took a heavy kick in the teeth here, gentlemen. Those boys out there need a serious boost to the moral, and they can't get it while picking up their dead and answering to men they've never had to salute before this."

"Sir, the dangers-!"

Sephiroth eyed the young aide who spoke up coldly. "I was in campaigns before you were out of training pants. I'll take my phalanx and some relief in the way of personnel and supplies."

Sarge spoke up. "What about Zack?"

For an instant so brief Sarge wasn't certain it happened, Sephiroth looked worried. But he remained coolly in control. Evenly, he said, "He'll stay here."

Sephiroth looked around with hard, glacial eyes. "Do not argue with me or try to convince me that I'm too valuable. You do what you must, and so will I. From Ground Zero." He blinked, reverting back to the unemotional Sephiroth. "Are we done here? Good. Dismissed…and I don't have to remind you that this meeting is closed-- no outside knowledge of what was said and decided here."

*******

Cloud finished up at the medward in early afternoon. He ducked in the showers only long enough to rinse the away the worst of the hospital smell before changing for the third time that day. Free for the day since his troops didn't have afternoon drills, he flopped down on his bunk--minus sheets--and grabbed some rest, hoping he was sufficiently tired, and that his dreams couldn't follow him this time. 

He didn't check the laptop shoved beneath the cot among the dirty clothes, or the program he had placed in the base systems to flag any mention of mission number 77645.

------------------------------

A/N: WHOO! She is back!

Muchas gracias to my chica who beta'd this. (Yes! 90% elimination of stupid mistakes.)

All right, hideous delay, but I needed the break. All I can do is apologize. I apologize. But, well now, things are getting interesting, no? I really tried on this chapter, so review, por favor….


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